And nary a shovel in sight. (with apologies to Coleridge).
The pressure of the last few weeks is showing up in the clutter everywhere in our house, threatening to push us out. I’m off again this morning on the penultimate trip of this stupid scheduling period. Home Friday, off again Monday, home Wednesday for whole, entire weeks at a time. Wahoo! If only I can get there... Of course, once that’s over, I owe more people more items than is comfortable to think about. In these moments, the question is always “What would Scarlett do?” Think about it tomorrow. That’s the plan, at least for now.
I am SO looking forward to having some time to shovel clutter and otherwise restore baseline order to our lives. That’s just to live every day, and has nothing to do with the interrupted-in-the-middle (by this medical adventure) tasks of working on the basement, garage and attic. Sometime, I’d really like to get back to those projects, too. We have an infestation of Way Too Much Stuff. I itch to get back to seeing what can be done to reduce the quantities, even if only modestly. Progress is progress, and seeing just about any would be gratifying. Ah well. That all has to wait.
Shea has her last day of high school on Tuesday, which seems completely unbelievable.
Off to the airport.