Tuesday, October 16, 2012
I am facing the daunting task of a massive, long-overdue clean up. Dave, first son, and some (maybe all) of the members of his motorcycle club are coming up in the near future to gather and haul away some of the "stuff" that Steve collected out in the yard and down in the shop and barn. The word "hoarder" comes to mind. Steve was an out-of-control tool-aholic. Call me insensitive, but I just think that seventy-two screwdrivers and fifty-seven wrenches are a few too many for any one person. Clay and I spent some time in the shop trying to get a grip on what will need to go and stay. Yeah, well, good luck with that. We edged our way between table saws (yes, plural), counted five air compressors (not counting the two in the barn), opened drawers and shut them again on massive amounts of tools, opened boxes and tried to figure out what use that particular item could possibly have, turned out the light and closed the door. I had pushed "fifth son" Craig to take something, anything, the other day, and convinced Clay to take a couple of things; a mere drop in the bucket. Did I say daunting? I'm no further ahead than when we walked downstairs.
Back up in daylight, we watched the selfish hummer drive away all comers from "his" bottle of juice. This bird is actually portly, and that's being kind.
Still talking, we had dinner and then put the barn and coop kids to bed. Not too much later, Clay left for home. I never, ever tire of hearing "Love you!" as wheels crunch down the drive.
My joy cup runneth over.