2010 — 12 June: Saturday
Somehow, it's 01:34 and I've just finished watching "Sherlock Holmes". I hadn't realised it was directed by Guy Ritchie. Enjoyable hokum.
G'night.
Highland Clearances...
... continue, as I tackle the bookcases to "Christa's side" of the bed. Then I shall have a spot of breakfast and deal with the waiting (empty) crockpot. Today's shenanigans include getting various empty bookcases into the garage out of the plumber's way. Such good fun. Ho hum.
It's already 09:33 too. Long day ahead. I would get excited about this, but not just now. Nice typo in the URL, chaps :-)
I was never in any doubt that clearing the various "Christa parts" of the house was going to be an emotionally-wrenching experience, and so it's proving to be. I have yet to discover the positive side1 to this horrid bereavement business, but I shall continue to plod on, regardless. Hobson's Choice, indeed. Time, I think, for a breakfast break while I listen to the sorry tale of the UK's 1970s car industry.
Tick-tock. 11:52 and carton #178 is filling up.
... and Lowland Levelling
Having transported the 178th carton, I decided it was probably time to give the bits of jungle something of a short back and sides. Here, Christa definitely had an advantage over me, absorbing (it seems to me) a vast amount of botanical knowledge with her mother's milk. My approach is more prosaic: if it attacks me, or seems to pose a potential threat, then it had better be extremely attractive if it wishes to survive. And if it's busily growing in the midst of stuff that I know Christa actually planted, its halflife is a short one.
No wonder she spent so long out there — it's quite absorbing once you get going. Trouble is, it's now 15:04 and lunch has yet to occur. Rumble, grumble.
One black plastic sack now filled with a wodge of her clothes. Progress! But now it's time to shift some empty bookcases down into the garage. Then a reward: another cuppa!
If you rang a few minutes ago (it's 16:43) I just got to the phone in time to hear the dial tone... Halfway down the stairs while carrying heavy stuff is not a good position from which to pick up.
Later
Goodness me... more of her clothes, hanging on the inside of her study door. Who knew? (Not me!) Recall her favourite poet, Rilke, and the letter he wrote (in February 1902) to Paula Modersohn-Becker:
I hold this to be the highest task for a bond between two people: that each protects the solitude of the other.
It's 18:12 and hunger pangs are rearing their tiresome head. Again. [Pause] OK, refuelled. Now, on with the big Dyson. I've never seen this house so uncluttered. The landing is actually quite large without books everywhere. Now, there's a thought...
Maybe I should dump the clutter here. (It's just been discussed on BBC Radio 4, but they only rarely grant individuals free access, it seems, so you have to trot along to your local library [if you still have one]. Probably just as well.) I have (safely tucked away in the warehouse) the 1976 Louis James book of ephemera Print and the people: 1819-1851 — in fact, until a week or so ago it lived on a shelf in the now-clear landing :-)
I applaud the current global insensate colonic spasm of football; it's cleared everybody off the roads leaving them deliciously clear this evening. It may have taken me 21,002 miles, Christa, but I've just done exactly as you commanded and taken a black bin bag with a wodge of your clothes down to the Asda clothing bank. And "tanked" (your verb, not mine) the car on the way back. Effortless.
It's 21:08, still light, pleasantly warm, and I reckon I've earned a cuppa and, just maybe, a film. Judy Garland is currently weighing a pie somewhere over the rainbow.
Not again!
I don't know about "Another suitcase in another hall" but I've had to deploy another drip tray to stop the area of carpet around the washing machine getting any wetter. There's something richly ironic about things springing leaks while I have a plumber practically in residence, I guess. Time (22:51) for the bath that soothes. I may as well use up the hot water as I'm about to lose it for a while...