After a riotous weekend - and a noisy, overflowing house - I am sitting at my computer in an empty, silent kitchen. The house is not completely empty. The Chicken is here with me, but she has not yet ventured out of her nest and down the stairs.
Today is going to be Recovery Day.
At my house, when we clean up in preparation for a party, we basically take the piles of junk that are stacked all over the house and shove them into closets and drawers and other secret places like the top of the fridge. Books we're reading, mail that needs to be responded to, notebooks for a research project I'm working on, boxes of books I need to sell, newspapers we're saving to put on the garden, car parts, fishing tackle,...it's all stuff we use, but stuff I'd rather not have lying all over everywhere when the house is filled to bursting with company.
So today, I'm going to have something like a giant Easter egg hunt as I try to remember all the places we've stashed stuff so that I can return everything to its usual place. So that we don't forget to respond to the mail, or to finish that research project, etc.
It's like hitting the junk pile re-set button.
Maybe - just maybe - a few of the piles will disappear completely. Remain lost forever. Never make it back to the light of day.
A gal can dream, can't she?
found an old poem from baby felix
3 weeks ago