Ooof. Over 21K steps today but that’s not why I’m feeling taaaared. My taaaaared is more psychological than physical although I will admit that having a wee glass of whine in the back yard in the late afternoon is not the worst thing on earth.

But let’s start at the beginning, which began when a rumble of thunder woke me up at that batscope time. Or was it my phone vibrating that woke me up? At any rate, there was a bit of thunder so I groped for my phone to check the weather and when it unlocked, the phone app was open and I didn’t think much about that until something like 8:00 AM. And that’s when I realized I had a missed call. At 1:49 AM. From Lizard Breath. Butt dial? Okay, moom, don’t panic. Everything is surely all right. I texted her anyway. Even though it was early and I worried that it might wake her up. And yes, of course, everything *was* all right.

I knew it but I slipped back into moom-of-teenager mode anyway. I *know* that an independent adult like LB would be unlikely to call meeeee if she was having some kind of problem in the middle of the night. She has an army of friends all over the country/world. Plenty of them are in her own city and would be much better prepared to help out with some kind of jam at that hour. Plus she is adept at avoiding “jams”. And indeed, there was no problem but she did indeed butt dial me while trying to call a buddy of hers to make sure he got home safely from wherever it is that they were. Alas, when I was *50*, I remember my parents being relieved when I got home from a beach faaaaar, on our own beach a short walk away, no less. As someone much smarter than me once said, “Once you are born from a mama, you are *stuck* to her”. It works the other way ’round too.

The day was just beginning and my mouse, who somehow figured out that I was kind of rattling around alone this weekend and feeling a bit more melancholy than usual, had specifically pinged me to make plans to meet at the farmer’s market at around 8 or so. I didn’t have any trouble spotting her this morning.

I cropped her head out intentionally and apped the photo just a wee bit via instagram and her buddy EB noted on FB something like it was the most “Mouse” photo he’d ever seen that didn’t include Mouse’s head. I knew exactly what he meant but then I have known her since age zero. She made the raincoat and the bag is (I *think*) a fancy reusable grocery bag from the Plum Market.

When I think of Mouse as an adult, I often think of her as preferring subtle, “elegant” colors but she has a long history of vibrant riots of color too. Like in the photo below, where she is wearing the jacket to a beauteous snowsuit she once owned. Note the loverly rabbit hat, not to mention old Burke’s old Lincoln in the background. Many a time did I watch Burke clear snow off that thing with his boxer shorts dragging down low enough to show the crack in the back. Good times.

Then. Oof. I am on a mission to EMPTY my house, one room at a time. I don’t mean empty for good. I just want to get everything out of each room, deep clean it, maybe paint, etc., and only put back the stuff that we decide we want to keep. I’m starting with the “guest bedroom” and within that, I began with some of the remaining dregs of The Commander’s stuff. Why oh why oh why is it so hard to get rid of her china? I mean the random few pieces remaining from the Russell Wright china that we used when I was a child. I am not enamored of that stuff and I have to note that, as pieces of it broke and The Comm moved house, she herself replaced it with a new set of dishes, one that is mostly intact and living at Lizard Breath’s house.

It was hard but I did box the remaining pieces up. I know that people collect Russell Wright and I could probably sell it but I’m not sure it would be worth my time. If collectors find it down at Kiwanis, they have my blessing to add it to their own collections or sell it or whatever. It’s just stuff. What I decided to keep was this small set of Danish Christmas themed dishes.

I have no clue why. They aren’t my usual cup of tea and I don’t even remember them. Did they belong to my Danish [step-]grandma Bolette? That doesn’t seem exactly right. She had a whole wall full of Royal Copenhagen Christmas plates but that’s not what these things are. Or did The Commander pick them up on one of her junkets across the pond? It wouldn’t be like her to buy a set of plates though. More likely onesy twosey type stuff. At any rate, I kept those and boxed up the random Russell Wright and some random glass bowls (“cheapies” as The Comm would’ve said) and kept some fancy crystal/cut glass (?) stuff that I also don’t remember. And I’m not quiiiiite done yet but I’m exhausted.

This entry was posted on Saturday, October 1st, 2016 at 5:01 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.