Well, I worked my little boody off yesterday. At least, it seemed like that to fairly sedentary me.
Finally started delving into the huge number of pictures I have. I trekked back and forth from my car to my door with those left from the garage sale. Put the family photos (I mean the studio portrait ones, not the snapshots, of which I have several thousand) on my bed, the others on the couch. These included some really nice pictures--most of them originals--and other artifacts that I like so much. Trouble is, of course, I like all of them so much. How can I discard the original oil of Victoria Peak in Hong Kong, where Mike used to live? Or the three pretty needle points in oval frames I used to have in my bathroom? Or the charming water color done by a local artist that I won when in a raffle years ago? And dozens of others.
Problem is, I just don't have the wall space for all of it or even a quarter of it.
I decided to bite the bullet and clear out the pictures in Ellen's garage. I knew she was at school, but called Greg to see if it was okay to come over sometime in the afternoon. Sure, he said, and after lunch, off I went. I opened two very large boxes (cardboard), filled with very large, framed pictures. I was able to get them both emptied in my slow, but efficient way: carried them to my car one or two at a time--luckily, still protected with bubble wrap--and put them in my trunk and back seat. I flattened the boxes and put them in, too, so I could discard them at my place.
Did so, then went back and forth, carrying pictures into my living room. I'm not finished: haven't gotten to the truck, yet, but cleared the back seat. Separated them, took snapshots, and listed them on Craig's list. I'm also going to take some to a consignment shop tomorrow. My plan C is to ask the Dudley House if they might want them as donations. Last choice: Goodwill.
El called and we had an interesting talk, partly about the vagaries of third-graders when instructed to write a narrative. It seems they all tend to make it a dialogue, which they'll told explicitly not to do. I love to hear about this kind of thing. El and I will get together over the weekend.
My friend, Pat R., commented on the fact that I was told I'm low on Vitamin D. I sent her the blood report via e-mail, as I have no idea how to interpret it and she wrote back quickly with a clear answer. It's nice to have a medical professional to consult--and she doesn't charge much, either!