Just the other day I was going through my closet, looking for something. You know how this goes after you hit the age of 50, right? You start looking for one thing and find something else and get so totally sidetracked that you never even remember what it was you were originally looking for, right? So, I was looking for a shoe. I figured it might be in my closet. I may never know, because every time I go to my closet for something.... Anyway, at the back of my closet is a metal lock-box. I don't have a key for it so I hope it never actually gets locked. I don't even know where the box came from but it seems like I've had it forever. The box is stuffed full of the past. There are a few photographs in there, and I can't figure out why they're in there instead of with the other photos in the house, but there they are. There's a copy of my high school newspaper from my freshman year. I know why that's there - that was the year Marty (now my husband) gr...
2018. Ugh. So far, not my favorite year. Yeah, so on New Year's Day I was cleaning up the house in anticipation of the arrival of an out-of-town guest. I took a break for a few minutes and sat down to read the day's Facebook posts. Everyone seemed to be having a great day, the posts were full of optimism, hopes and dreams, prayers and anticipation of this being the year that humanity redeemed itself. All I could really say was that I'd just discovered my pants were on inside-out. I knew at that moment what kind of year this was going to be. Later that day my front-load dryer stopped working. A week later I was running out for FIVE MINUTES to do one last task before calling it a day... and it was like experiencing an instant replay of a day in December of 2013... My left heel hit a patch of mud just outside and the next thing I know I'm on my butt in that patch of mud. With my ankle at an odd angle. And yes, I heard a snap. My beloved husband, Marty w...
The bathroom is our friend. It's there for us in our deepest time of need. It's there for us when we're at our lowest, at times in our lives when no one else would want to be near us. So why are people so mean to their bathrooms when they're moving out of a home? Why did that poor toilet ever do to them ? The first time the property management office called me and asked if I'd be willing to "once in a while" clean a vacant home for them it was at my husband's suggestion. The place he was remodeling was in desperate need of a cleaning and they didn't have anyone at that time to take care of it. So they called me. I told them I'd be happy to do it. Happy. I actually used the word happy. I put on some old cut-off sweats and a grubby t-shirt. It was summer. In the south. It was about 90 degrees outside at midday. Have you ever been in a trailer in the summer? You cannot live in these things in the summer without good A/C. They're ovens! ...
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