It’s now seven weeks since we arrived back in Canada – not just for weeks, but for better or for worse – after our five-year jaunt in China. It’s a full month that we’ve been back in our (mainly) familiar old Ottawa address, and we’re still finding stuff we’d forgotten we owned. (So Much STUFF. We’re enacting our very own The Story of Stuff. Non-stop laughter.) There are islands of order and comfort, though even these are occasionally swamped by flotsam. (Wait, there’s another box of clothes? More VHS movies?)
We’ve cracked open most of the boxes and tubs that we’d stored away, and the main living areas are mainly clean, with about half of ‘em having received a fresh coat of paint. (No animals, family members or relationships were (irreversibly) harmed in the remaking of this home.) We pushed hard to get ready for a good old-fashioned yard sale yesterday, and remind me never to do that again. Especially on a quiet dead-end street. We didn’t sell any of the big stuff, made at least $32.50, but now have the jetsam, most of it, more neatly collected in the garage for further attempts at un-stuffery.
Meanwhile, as the keenest of mind’s eyes will have noticed, there hasn’t been a lot of writing. I have started giving old vinyl records a re-listen, though! Who Are You by the Who goes on my short list for the next yard sale we’re not going to have, but since it was brought into the marriage by The Other Occupant, it will remain. Steely Dan’s Katy Lied remains a great album, and I’m looking forward to hearing if I’m still a Talking Heads fan. (Spoiler alert: I am.)