in the dark...

... on the last part of the drive to arrive in Valdosta. Left work at 2:15, did several errands that needed attention, and got packed up to leave town around 5:00. I knew it would be dark-thirty before I the end, but find that preferable to trying to drive down and back in one day. It's possible, but not likely that I would do that much driving in a twelve hour span. I came to the conclusion that making that six hour drive is just tooooo much to try to get accomplished in one day and expect to be able to function at a civilized level the next.

Plus I really cannot entertain myself here in Valdosta very well. If I do not have anything to read, I go to bed too early. I don't want to get out in the streets and walk after dark. I have to put some effort into finding a source of wi-fi in order to get connected with the universe. Sorta' pitiful....

I have been accumulating cardboard cartons, broken down, flattened and stacked in the back of  my car.  Plus the necessary packing tape to turn them back into boxes, large enough to hold bottles and cans that need to be disposed of, and small enough for lifting when full to put in the back of my car. I expect to find chemicals like old cans of paint, insecticides, weed killer and other items that do not need to go into the land fill or ground water. I am prepared to take boxes of these haz-mat materials home to store in my carport until the city has another day when they will take assorted dangerous chemicals for disposal

Yard tools like rakes, shovels, pitchfork, garden hoe, hoses, watering cans. And boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations. I quit the 'paring down' process before opening the first box last week, so have no idea what to expect. Hoping there might be one last stash of those wonderful snowflakes my grandmother crochet by the dozens. I have given all the ones away that trimmed my Christmas tree for years, except for several I put in a frame to hang on the wall, preserving for posterity.

Not really expecting that the cartons of holiday trim stored in the room with junk, chemicals, yard tools would  contain something of such value, treasures from the past. But I know my auntie had many, and have yet to find them. The boxes piled up in the last corner of the last room to be identified and sorted is the only place left to look. There is another generation I would like to share them with, if they surface when I look through those boxes. If those beautiful lace-y hand-made snowflakes do not show up in the last few cartons of flotsam/jetsam/antiquities, they are gone forever: .like a whisp of smoke floating away on the slightest breeze - vanished.

I am trying my best to ignore the possibility that there might be something stored in the attic....