SalmonFry of Leave
Sep. 2nd, 2020 10:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoNot enough sleep. It rained in the night, but the morning was beautiful--sunny, hot, and windy. I noticed that the leaves of my window tree have just a tinge of bronze at the edges, for the first time. It still looks green from the ground, but up close, you can see they are on the brink of turning. They might hover there for weeks, though. Everything happens in slow motion this year. Except the things that happen suddenly!
I didn't get out in the day as much as I would have liked, however. I was determined to tackle my letter-filing project again. Sorting so many things honestly makes me doubt my own sanity. I have all these little piles, and I repeatedly forget what they were supposed to be. By the time I went downstairs to have some tea, I was thoroughly hot and sweaty and dusty. I didn't want to sit outside in the sun and wind. I just wanted to sit down in a cool, comfy spot. Maybe tomorrow I'll get outside again. I really can't afford to waste any of these late summer days.
I ordered some flowers sent to my brother in law, the Duke. His sister died last week, and they had to go to Tennessee to say goodbye. I hope the flowers will be nice. It's so iffy choosing things online. I ordered something that looks naturalistic, not a formal arrangement, with lots of warm autumn colors. Nothing stiff and funereal! It's sad enough when people die. The flowers at least should be happy. Then the internet beguiled me into buying some shampoo soap bars. I've tried these before, and have always been disappointed. The soap sticks to one's hair and doesn't feel nice and clean. They always say it will wash out, but then it doesn't! However, it would be so nice not to have all the plastic bottles . . . so I'm trying again. I already have buyer's remorse. I suppose the bright side is that if it doesn't work as shampoo, I can just use it as soap.
After dinner, I went back upstairs and worked on the letters until I had most of them organized and could stack my boxes back in the garret. Every time I picked up a box, I found another little stack that needed to be tucked into its proper folder. Once I'd finally put all the boxes away, I found one more stash--but I just stuffed it into the first available box. Let it be a mystery to the historians. Enough is enough. I threw out a stack of empty envelopes, the manual for a printer we don't have any more, emergency instructions for bank accounts we don't have any more in a state where we don't live any more, Christmas cards from people I don't remember . . . and some from people I wish I didn't remember. . . . I still have boxes and stacks on the floor, but it's progress.
I didn't get out in the day as much as I would have liked, however. I was determined to tackle my letter-filing project again. Sorting so many things honestly makes me doubt my own sanity. I have all these little piles, and I repeatedly forget what they were supposed to be. By the time I went downstairs to have some tea, I was thoroughly hot and sweaty and dusty. I didn't want to sit outside in the sun and wind. I just wanted to sit down in a cool, comfy spot. Maybe tomorrow I'll get outside again. I really can't afford to waste any of these late summer days.
I ordered some flowers sent to my brother in law, the Duke. His sister died last week, and they had to go to Tennessee to say goodbye. I hope the flowers will be nice. It's so iffy choosing things online. I ordered something that looks naturalistic, not a formal arrangement, with lots of warm autumn colors. Nothing stiff and funereal! It's sad enough when people die. The flowers at least should be happy. Then the internet beguiled me into buying some shampoo soap bars. I've tried these before, and have always been disappointed. The soap sticks to one's hair and doesn't feel nice and clean. They always say it will wash out, but then it doesn't! However, it would be so nice not to have all the plastic bottles . . . so I'm trying again. I already have buyer's remorse. I suppose the bright side is that if it doesn't work as shampoo, I can just use it as soap.
After dinner, I went back upstairs and worked on the letters until I had most of them organized and could stack my boxes back in the garret. Every time I picked up a box, I found another little stack that needed to be tucked into its proper folder. Once I'd finally put all the boxes away, I found one more stash--but I just stuffed it into the first available box. Let it be a mystery to the historians. Enough is enough. I threw out a stack of empty envelopes, the manual for a printer we don't have any more, emergency instructions for bank accounts we don't have any more in a state where we don't live any more, Christmas cards from people I don't remember . . . and some from people I wish I didn't remember. . . . I still have boxes and stacks on the floor, but it's progress.
