Where There’s a Will……..

If ever there was an appropriate old maxim describing our weekend it would be ~ where there’s a will, there’s a way! Our patient, considerate, hard-working, strong son came home once again for another weekend of Helping the Parents. We are trying not to abuse or exasperate Will, but his help is of inestimable value as the cleaning out continues. And, to be fair, Drew would be of great assistance as well, but he lives too far away to come for a day’s help.

This job is taxing. For one thing, Buzz and I try to be more patient with each other when Will is around, exemplifying marriage as a good thing ~ in case he ever wants to try it. And, believe me, that effort is not always easy! I’m quite certain that I am trying harder than Buzz. I have swallowed more “You’ve gotta be kidding me”’s than I can count ~ replacing them with “Yes, dear”’s. Have almost choked several times. Can’t imagine why, but Will is more effective in reasoning with each of us with regard to what we need to keep than we are with each other.

We finally got the storage room organized, and it’s a beautiful thing ~ relatively speaking. We have a box of tools ready for the yard sale that is too heavy to lift. And we found a heavy old wooden chest with an enamel top that was buried under all the stuff. Buzz says it is over a hundred years old, and sat on the family back porch all his life. We cleaned it up, painted it, and sprayed the top with appliance enamel, and Will now has a spiffy chest for his storage building. I love it when that happens!

The painters have finished. Just before the last one left, I managed to rip my towel bar off the wall so that now he has to come back and repair it. I’m my own worst enemy sometimes.

Having been advised to clear out all the clutter in our house before we show it, I gathered all non-hanging pictures, antique vases, etc., boxed them up and removed them from the house. Of course, our stuff is not clutter (ahem!) but treasured family pieces. And we haven’t even scratched the surface. And incidentally, what are we supposed to do about a life while this process is underway? If I let my mind go to what’s still ahead I’m afraid I’ll back out. Buzz is supportive, but it’s the wife/mother who decides about all the junk in the house. We’ve got his storage room done, and he’s ready to roll. At times, I’m ready to cave! I shouldn’t even be writing this. I should be clearing out stuff. But things tend to get blurry in time. It’s my therapy. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it!