Barbara J. Hamby

Hanging In

I’m plugging away at the chores that precede a move. This morning I cleaned the burner pans on the kitchen stove, after treating them with oven cleaner over night. “Stainless” steel is not necessarily stainless, as I learned many years ago. I’m debating whether or not I’ll clean the oven. It isn’t very dirty because I’ve only used it about half a dozen times in four years. I have a microwave and a convection oven that I use for most of the limited cooking I do.

I’m about three quarters of the way through the mammoth job of sorting snapshots. I’m sure I’ve reduced the number by more than half. I started with a footlocker and a large plastic tub full of negatives and prints. All the negatives are being discarded and at least half of the prints are headed for the landfill. To my dismay, I learned they can’t be recycled.

I found a picture of myself walking with my son when he was about two, I think, that I should keep on the refrigerator. I’m wearing a dress that I gave away when I saw another picture of myself in it. I was probably at my lifetime top weight at that time and I looked like a belted sack of potatoes.

My housekeeper postponed her visit to Saturday this week, which actually works better for me. She’ll be here in the morning and my sister arrives from Seattle in the afternoon. However, it forced me to do some vacuuming of carpet that had been covered with furniture for years.

I’m getting anxious to start moving small items, but can’t do anything until I get the word from the manager’s office. I have quite a few boxes packed, but need to pick up more empties and keep packing.

Time to get back to work.