Monday, March 21, 2011

The First Day of Spring and it's Snowing!

For once, I am happy that my office is windowless. I don't think I could stand to watch it snow again. Just when the white piles around my house began to disappear we get another visit from the snow god. Three inches expected at home, and a wonderous journey in the car to get there, I'm sure. I just have to remember to make a bathroom visit before I leave the office. Welcome Spring!

So today is Monday and the housecleaners came today. At least I think they did. They are like little elves that come and clean my house twice a month while I am at work. And what, you might ask, did I do on Sunday before this magical visit? I spent the day cleaning, of course. How cliché! I remember the first day they came to clean and give me a quote. She carefully pointed to overflowing table tops and cluttered corners covered with everything from magazines, mail, clothes, coins, cat toys, books, and exclaimed "with something like that, we would just leave it, we wouldn't clean it." Oh, of course, I said, a little embarrassed, I would straighten that up before they came next time. Of course. It was cleaned for that visit but slowly each week, more and more stuff appeared in these high-traffic spots.

With two cats, a bunny, a self-described "casual" housekeeper (me), and a small-ish house, it has become even more of a challenge to keep clean as I continue to bring back items from my parents house that I don't want to give up. Despite the fact that my mother was petite and I'm plus-sized, I couldn't give up certain pieces of clothing. Not expensive items, but ones she wore a lot or I have photos of her wearing them, or clothes in certain colors that matched her eyes. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with them and I will probably part with them someday, but not now. The guestroom, mom's room when she came to visit, is the repository for anything that doesn't have a home. That room is off limits to anyone really, except for Jake, my tomcat, who likes the new rug I bought and is determined to shred it to death. I've strategically placed boxes and bags on top of the carpet to discourage him. Sounds like a long-term plan for messiness doesn't it?

My cousins posted the memorial information for my aunt on Facebook. I guess they're going to a moose lodge and eating dinner. No church. My parents also didn't want a service; at least my mother didn't want a service for my dad. Just the family at the grave. So when she died, even my brothers asked me what we should do. Are you kidding? If she didn't want a service for dad, why would she want one for herself? I guess it's nice that we don't have to be pressured into giving eulogies if we don't want to, but it seems so casual as to be forgotten. Not that I would forget either visit by the grave. I planted some bulbs last Fall around their headstone, so I'm anxious to see it in a couple of weeks to see if anything survived. It doesn't look like there have been diggers there (no pun intended) so I'm hopeful.

Last night I did look over a calendar/diary that my mom kept when she was in college. Her sophomore and junior years, Univ of Michigan handed out these great duo-tone spiral calendars, with photos on the left and on the right, spaces to write: morning, noon, and night. My mother kept this as her social calendar by the looks of it. She was a pretty popular woman in those days, though that doesn't surprise me. I mean, look at her!

She dated quite a few different men in her sophomore year, everything from "Coke with xxx" dates to movies to fraternity dances. On a single week it was not unusual to have several of these dates with four different men. In her junior year, I first saw my dad's name pop up. Their first date. Then several weekly dates, then multiple dates and then only dates with Ed were on the calendar. And finally – meeting Ed's family. Then, an entry all alone on the weeks calendar "Date with Ed - broke up." Turn the page, the following week said only "Date with Ed - broke up again." But he continues to be penciled in the following week, and the week after, and the week after that. Some weeks other men were also penciled in around "Ed". But I guess it all worked out in the end.

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