It's occurred to me lately that our home of 33 years has become a time capsule.
Decades of memories in books, papers, pamphlets, and tchotchkes. Mr. Ginley has been hard at work sorting the goodies, relegating some to the trash bin or resale box. Others are going into a bin for Joe. The items that Mr.'s not ready to part with have been re-boxed and will be stored until the next purge.
In the meantime, I'm strolling along with him down Memory Lane. At the end of each day, there's a pile of "Barb's stuff" that I work through. Business cards from previous jobs. Greeting cards from my parents. Family pictures of life events, including the one that was taken for our church directory back in the day.
Also, there have been several items in the category of "what is this and why did we save it?" There's always that fear that while you have no idea, as soon as you toss it out, you're going to need it.
Ah, well.
It was a quiet week otherwise. I had breakfast with my son and granddaughter at Edgewater, which was fun. And Mr. and I sat out on the porch for a bit, although the days we chose were pretty steamy, so we didn't sit out there for long. But I was able to snap the photo above.
Do you like the "No Soliciting" sign behind him? We thought it was a nice touch.
To be clear, Mr. says he's not for sale.
I told him we shouldn't be too hasty.
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