This I Have Done

Over the weekend, we:

• Started staging garage sale items into the garage.
• Scoured through the upstairs rooms and closets, pulling out 'stuff' that is no longer useful for us. This included (among other things) clothes that are now too small, toys now outgrown, books for audiences now too young, and science kits now exhausted of their contents.
• What 'stuff' we kept, we organized into logical and centralized locations. As an example, instead of three various locations for science kits, we now have one. We can now take complete inventory of what we have to experiment with!
• Sorted the last of the toys/books boxes from the garage. Some of these items went into the house, others went straight to the garage sale area. These qualified as the final six boxes of the move. They're now unpacked.
• Cleaned the majority of the workshop space in the basement; getting the clutter picked up and returned to a tidy storage mechanism.
• Prepared a space for the piano.
• Wired up the last remaining yard spot, highlighting the Lilac tree in the front. As hoped, this additional spot created a balanced light pattern from the street that is much more visually appealing than before. One light, well placed, made a big difference.

This was a lot, actually. It took a lot of slow, methodical time to accomplish. It took children choosing to make hundreds of individual decisions. It took the involvement of the kids and patience from parents as we taught the process and thinking that goes into de-cluttering one's space.

So, we generally just turned on the Olympics and worked through the coverage. On Saturday, when the temperature was in the high 90's, being upstairs was really hard. But Sunday, with the temps in the high 80's most of the day, it was pretty tolerable. Nevertheless, things continue to settle in.

To me, this felt *typical* and like a return to normal. We were doing the normal sort of clear out a family does from time to time. It wasn't associated with a home rehab project; we're just cleaning up our personal stuff that was lurking behind the construction, just out of reach.

 

I spent all day Sunday barefoot. I mean, I was all over the place. I mowed the lawn barefoot. I carried boxes of stuff to and from the garage. I took trash out to the alley. I worked in the garage and the basement. All barefoot.

During the construction period, my feet would have been muddy, dirty, grimy - awful, and within minutes - sometimes without even leaving the house. So I was expecting rather the same situation once again.

Given my expectations, I made a specific point at the end of the day to wash my feet.  Imagine my surprise when I stepped into the tub and did a quick check -- they looked clean! I hadn't washed them yet! I went ahead and washed them, and yes, there was some dirt there. But amazingly little - too little to show.

Healthy, green, vibrant lawn; regularly vacuumed floors clear of construction debris; a patio, path and parking area that is essentially clear of debris and dirt. All these things finally come together to allow me to create a 'clean' place instead of a "mud pit" as C sometimes referred to it.

 

Late last night, as thunder storms rolled past in the very far-away distance, C and I sat on the bench in our front yard. The newly installed spot cast a halo of indirect light around us, without causing any discomfort. The rest of the yard lights showed off the plants and the verdant green grass. The traffic moved by at a light Sunday night pace, with nearly as many bicyclists as cars. Up above the street, we could see everyone else, but were not noticed - privacy in plain sight. We sat there, her head on my shoulder, admiring our yard and the beauty of the house. After a number of moments of quiet, C said, softly but proudly, "This I have done."

She spoke for us both.