So not funny. Not how I wanted to spend the tail end of the evening. Mr S-P went on a mountain hike, along the trail west of Boulder where his father suffered a fatal heart attack the same day Elvis died. He went alone, and didn't even leave here until mid-afternoon. So when it got to be past ten, and he wasn't home, and his phone was going straight to voice mail, somehow I was not amused. I tried to keep from letting my mind wander to scary places. But, you know, it does. It was around eleven before a bunch of photos and videos showed up on my phone, and minutes later he walked in. No signal in the canyon, he reminds me, and proceeds to tell me how much harder it is to hike down from the upper lake in the dark when you know there could be moose along the trail. I really hope I can sleep tonight, after that anxiety.
I did a major reorganization of my room today. Looks like our guests may stay a while, so I pulled several armloads of my clothes out of the guest room which has doubled as my closet for years. I did a complete overhaul of the closet in this room, switched where I store spare sheets, and figured out what to do with everything from a five-drawer dresser I emptied so they had a place to store their stuff. I was brutal sorting out t-shirts I haven't worn in years, and I am now all the way into August in my donate-every-day project. My daughter had some plastic drawers she wanted to get rid of, so I took two sets and filled them with jammies, shirts, and underwear that survived the sort. (No, I did not donate underwear. I'm not that much of a weirdo.)
I still have miles to go, but bringing in long-term visitors has been the inspiration I needed to purge so much clutter that had been weighing me down. I kind of want to see how much I can thin out document clutter next. I have pretty much every single bill and handout from doctors since the first mammogram went sideways in 2019. There is plenty that can be shredded now. We aren't doing a game night tomorrow, so maybe that can be my entertainment.
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