it will be great ...

... such a good idea when it is completed, but just thinking of what it takes to get from here to there gives me headache. I am dreading it so much, you can see I am typing, for all the world to see instead of putting into action. Someone thought it necessary to get the inside of the carport painted, and has put effort into making that a reality. Of course, The Man Who Lives Here is not actually doing it himself. But he is willing to pay someone to get it accomplished: called contractors to come/look, provide estimates, and expects the work will start tomorrow.

Well, 'Fine For Him' is what I am thinking. All he has to do is observe, be a Sidewalk Supervisor - plus of course, write the check when the work is finished. I am the one who is delegated to move all that stuff. Boxes of old shoes to recycle and Buckets for storing home-made potting soil. Wheel barrow, shovels, rakes. Ladders and Crates. Flotsam and Jetsam. Garbage cans and Recycling Bins. Banker's Boxes full of ancient tax documents and Baskets full of potential Girl Scout projects. More boxes full of collectibles and memorabilia from parents and Crates of ancient hand tools from my granddad, crusted with rust but still workable for the original purpose.

We all know how it easy it seems to sort through someone's possessions and appear to be heartless in paring down, donating, trashing all the things it takes a lifetime to accumulate. When push came to shove and the time ran out for finding a good home for a house full of memories, I thought I did a pretty good job of parting with things I knew I had no place for in my life (or house.)  But these remaining things, the last physical bits of my parents years and years of living in one place are really difficult to part with. Maybe I need for someone else to come and be that pushing, shoving, forceful person who can say: 'This goes here, that goes there, this is trash or put it in the thrift store box.'

I have procrastinated long enough. It is pretty obvious that if I have not found a place to put them in my house and life, it is apparent I do not need to hang onto these bits and pieces of the past any longer. It's so hard, looking at things my folks loved and cherished for years and turning my back on the past, memories, knowledge of the space things took up in their lives...