December 29th, 2016
It took some time in fact a good chunk of the day and using a few choice s words. The letter s kept sounding off and up, sweating, skidding, swearing and salting and a few more. Read on!
Keeping you all abreast of events here at the bed and breakfast, a little red motorcar load, albeit a small automobile, full to the brim of yesterday efforts, in more ways than one. all left the cellar. There were several bags of heritage nails my father had given me, straight out his basement. Lamps, whose history was detailed here in great displays of literacy, were laid across the seats, front and back. Blankets of a vintage, and inactive for a time, were some time ago, booming and blossoming in plastic bags. They were stuffed on the passenger seat. The foot well had within its confines old boots and even older wallpaper. Every last item wrapped in inexpensive plastic, all gone the cellar or garage. ALL brought up and out, all of this up from the basement and out to the car.
Thus another s word, sweating, like I was at the sea shore in the summer time, Dressed for the second daily event, dog walking out of doors in Canadian winter. (When after all this had been delivered, discovered that I forgotten in the flurry to get it done, to bring my hat to walk with Lucy. I digress,)
We come to another S word of the day. I was at the point hooking an elbow and skidding thru the gates to the left, stopping at the back of the car. This of course was an accident waiting to happen. Thus you will be pleased to know, I went in search of salt, (the fourth, fifth, S word for those of you keeping count) for the thick layer of ice just in the middle of the escape route, going out the gate, The salt was just to keep a grip, something I am not good at, but just on the items going out the door. The dog was the last thing to be stuffed into one tenth of her space on the back seat.
We clattered to charity shops of our choice. I am pleased to announce that ALL is gone, and there is now a space in the basement to fill up again, as nature abhors a vacuum, I do too it seems. While in the charity shop, there was furniture delivered by a company hired for the purpose no less, The rich redecorate, I recycle. I could have brought my house in the latest century as a woman had just brought her old but newer than mine, furniture inn. I escaped with my life, or the dog in my case. OFF we went to the next stop.
No good deed goes unpunished or in my case unpublished. I had I admit had the two bags of blankets were inn storage in my unheated exposed to the elements in my almost garage, for a considerable length of time. (Please note that there is electricity in it now, as that was one of the events of summer, Upgrading the lighting in the back yard, but once again I digress) The blankets I admit were stored for a hefty time and were not in fact protected by their plastic. NO, no, indeed it seems and in fact they smelled, stank in fact once they warmed up while driving around delivering the goods.
At first it was deniable, but there it was, a tang, an odor, one associates with wait for it, litter boxes. The olfactory sensation regrettably and most unluckily is transferable I would come to find out. La Tomato, has not the plastic car smell one associates with cars but the smell, wonderful to a cat one assumes, to another, in heat. This in fact changed the trajectory of which charity the blankets went to. They went to were brought in their plastic bags to the animal shelter, along with last years Christmas cards to recycle. All lamps but two are gone, leaving pictures stored underneath them to be examined and shipped some place. The next thing on the list. Anything you can do in excess for the wrong reasons is exciting to me. Carrie Fisher Moi and Lucy P