…before it gets better.
Apparently, getting the guest room finished and the workshop started has set off some primal urge in The Squire. He actually asked me to post on Freecycle that he had a bunch of scrap lumber to dispose of. Now, mind you, I am married to the Scrap Lumber King of Greater Downtown Bradshaw, so this was quite an ordeal.
I did not expect anybody to be foolish enough to lug this stuff away, but we had several responses, including one man who wanted the 2 x 4s to build a treehouse/fort for his child, and another man who was willing to take everything The Squire was willing to part with. We gave Chris everything we thought was appropriate, but then the “fort” man was a no-show, so Chris is coming back sometime after the weekend to clean us out.
While he and The Squire were in the barn, my husband discovered that one of the bad storms we had a few weeks ago (Oh, heck. It could have been a few years ago, for all I know.) had carried water under the barn door, across the floor, and out the other side. Lovely. I still haven’t cleared all of my mum’s boxes, some of which were stacked on the floor, and obviously had gotten soaked. I mean, she’s only been gone since 2011; what’s the rush? She doesn’t need any of that stuff anymore.
Today, The Squire brought down – at my request – three boxes for me to empty. One was a box of plain old junk, most of it from either her desk or my dad’s. Who wraps and packages a collection of old pencils? Another was a box of glassware from the dining room – a mixed collection of Spode, antique cut glass, and pressed glass from a chain store.
What I really don’t understand is how three boxes of items wrapped in newspaper can leave behind six boxes of newspaper and peanuts, after you remove half the contents.
And then, there was this prize, from November 1958. Apparently, my “Famous Model” phase started earlier than I thought. Now, honestly, would you think these two people were related, never mind siblings?
thisendoftheswamp 
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