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As The West End Turns

It's done. It's over. It was a bit tearful, but now that I've done it, I know it will get better. Last weekend, Shanna and Leroy, Austin and Jordan came to visit and do this garage thing. I enlisted help from a wonderful 'worker guy', as Jordan calls him, and it was all done in short order. Before I knew it, May and Tag had been relegated to another garage. I actually had a phone call from someone who wanted them, but I just couldn’t bear to part with them so soon. They've been with me for twenty years, so I couldn't just callously give them to someone so dear to me. Frank and Sherri have been good to me. I thought it in bad taste to saddle them with such a disdainful pair of buckets of bolts. I would have, however, been happy to let them have the daybed. But just for a minute. I wonder why no one expressed interest in the toilet… Someone was watching out for me, I guess. Why is it that I get so weepy eyed about these things? I can remember crying when I used to drop my clothes off at the cleaners. (That was because I was afraid I'd outgrow them before I picked them up.) I've cried over such things as seeing spotless dishes come out of the dishwasher. The thing I've been happiest about and cried a river over was clothes coming out of the dryer with no wrinkles. (Someone finally told me that thing I was using for a butcher block was actually an ironing board). I cried when I left the first roll of Austin's baby pictures at Wal-Mart to be developed. I was afraid I wouldn't recognize him when I finally got back to pick them up. (Come to think of it, he DID have a couple of teeth by the time I did). That was all years ago. Now I cry when something I cook actually comes out of the oven tasting the way it should. The washer and dryer, the toilet, and all the lumber that was left from the kitchen remodel have all been moved out of my garage and into another one. Now my car has the whole place to its self, but I've noticed it accelerates when I pull in and out like it's afraid it will all be back in there before the door closes. I've decided to keep the daybed. Remember when I wanted to paint it, but couldn't get it taken apart to move it outside? Now that it IS outside, I AM going to paint it! And I'm going to do it before they come back to clean out the garage we just put all the stuff in. Yeehaw!

Hi Cathy Lou!

 

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