My head is spinning. And it’s sparkly, too.
My mom and stepdad have been here for much of the week. Always fun to have a visit, but the two of them are an unstoppable force of nature when it comes to cleaning, purging, and home improvement projects.
The garage, which M and I purged substantially when my in-laws were here, is now practically sparkling and perfectly organized.
The basement, which was still a bit of a wreck from our furnace and A/C install in July, got the same treatment. Shelves moved, stuff categorized and up on palates, swept and shop-vac’d, and downright spacious.
The sunroom, which had maintained its “throw all the crap in there when company is coming over” status even after I moved my sewing space there, is now a joy to work in. Shelves hung, light fixture replaced, carpet down. Crap removed. Fabric reorganized and stored. Aaahh.
The guest room, our “throw all the crap in there” room on the 2nd floor, has a closet that I haven’t even been able to approach for months. Piles of books, old clothes, boxes of all that miscellaneous junk you don’t know what to do with. Two of M’s leather jackets he hasn’t worn in years, two bridesmaid dresses belonging to my sister-in-law. A tie-fighter helmet from Star Wars. My wedding dress, hermetically sealed and in a giant cardboard box.
But here’s the problem – sometime in the next six months, that room has to change identities and become home for a small new person to be named later. Enter: my mom.
One after another, we filled big black plastic contractor bags. Some heading to the Salvation Army. Many in my driveway waiting for trash day, since our FOUR big trash barrels are already full from the week’s work. Box after box of books thrown into the huge donation bin in the grocery store parking lot. And so much wedding stuff, thrown in there as soon as we moved into our new house, still newlyweds. Finally, the dried-and-not-in-a-good-way bouquet, lovingly admired one more time and thrown in the trash along with the formerly-white shoes. The dress, up to the attic. And the veil, which I liked but see no reason to preserve indefinitely, has gone into Rebecca’s new costume box. But not the sparkly comb we unearthed from the same dusty box. That stays with me. For now.
So much done. SO MUCH crap out of my house, and either into the trash or ready to be donated. Plenty yet to be done, of course, but a massive push in the right direction.
No offense though, Mom, but I’ll be ready when you fly home tomorrow. I need a nap.
