Don't get the wrong idea. The song tonight is my current earworm. I had Les Mis playing on the TV while I cleaned out my closet yesterday, although I came into it more than halfway through, so I missed that song. My brain has been challenging me ever since to remember more than about three words of the lyrics, so I played it about half an hour ago, thinking it would cure the earworm. Instead it's playing on a loop in my head even more frantically. I'm not wailing in desperation over a life gone wrong. I'm just wishing I knew the words by heart and could sing worth a damn these days. (The malfunctioning diaphragm that has sent me for every expensive imaging test they could think of makes it hard to hit and sustain notes. Hopefully it will improve when they figure out just what to do with me.)
My little Park tried to blow away last night. We had sustained winds in the 40s, with at least one (I say many more) peak gust at 48. Stacked construction materials in my back yard blew around, the hot tub lid blew open, and it sounded like the entire place was about to pick up and roll down the street. But oddly, a swimsuit and towel I left on a chair outside were just where I left them. I think the leaves we never raked ended up several blocks south of here, but that's okay, we got all the leaves from blocks north. It balances. It was too chilly and I was too focused on my indoor tasks to inspect for damage.
The Great Purge of 2020 has begun. No, I don't mean like those dumb movies. I mean I have hauled out a huge stack of stuff from my closet to donate at the ARC. So far I'm getting rid of decorative pillows and blankets I don't need anymore, plus some dresses and a blazer. And considering I haven't been a regular bowler in more than a decade, and my back doesn't allow it anyway, it's time for someone else to own my ball and shoes. I don't even know if any of the things I want to donate are worth money. Putting it up to sell online sounds like too much work. The thrift store is like 5 or 6 blocks away, and just hauling it there is daunting. But my goal is to remove a literal ton from this house before the next Smith arrives in May. I have to find the inner strength to load up my little car and make about 15 trips to the drop-off point. It will be worth it.
Photo credit to Mr S-P. His post-windstorm caption: "We will rebuild."
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