yesterday morning, went over to mom's house with my sister & talked about what's going where. today we have to do the same thing with a storage shed out of town a little ways. my sister set off a bug bomb out there a couple of hours ago that should clear out any biological nastiness, replacing it with a nice pervading mist of Chemical nastiness.
(I'm a bit odd when it comes to health matters--I try to keep the chemicals to a minimum, look for the "kosher" symbol on most of the packaged food I eat, not for any religious reasons, but because I heard that it's healthier, & have been trying, with limited success, to be a mostly vegatarian-but at the same time I smoke somewhere in the neighborhood of two packs of cigarettes a day.)
my sister wrote an obit for the local paper, which she'll drop by today, but it's more of a formality than anything, since the town is so small that everybody knows the cradle-to-grave altready. (the town that we grew up in is even smaller--a core group of die-hard locals numbering maybe 70 spread out in area about the size of Brooklyn, swelling to maybe 125 in the summer.)
I'm kind of apprehensive of taking ANYTHING, because for the past ten years or so I've tried to keep myself as mobile as possible, sometimes moving to a new place with just a duffel bag, leaving a box of books at the old place to be shipped to new place whenever I figure out where in the hell that's going to be.
my mother moved out of her place at the aforementioned little town maybe 6 years ago--(it was the "polite fiction" that she was moving into my grandmothers to help take care of her, but everybody knew that it was the other way around) the contents of her house was divided amongst my grandmothers & a storage shed. when my grandmother passed away in December, what was there was further divided into what went to the apartment I & my sister rented for her & the garage out behind my place (which burned down two weeks ago with everything in it--it's been a lousy couple of weeks.)
thing is--mom liked STUFF. almost all of it is just--stuff. she was a sucker for cutesy, for collectible, for catalogs. plastic products with corporate logos or little sayings. she had a taste for the mass-produced.
gotta go.
(I'm a bit odd when it comes to health matters--I try to keep the chemicals to a minimum, look for the "kosher" symbol on most of the packaged food I eat, not for any religious reasons, but because I heard that it's healthier, & have been trying, with limited success, to be a mostly vegatarian-but at the same time I smoke somewhere in the neighborhood of two packs of cigarettes a day.)
my sister wrote an obit for the local paper, which she'll drop by today, but it's more of a formality than anything, since the town is so small that everybody knows the cradle-to-grave altready. (the town that we grew up in is even smaller--a core group of die-hard locals numbering maybe 70 spread out in area about the size of Brooklyn, swelling to maybe 125 in the summer.)
I'm kind of apprehensive of taking ANYTHING, because for the past ten years or so I've tried to keep myself as mobile as possible, sometimes moving to a new place with just a duffel bag, leaving a box of books at the old place to be shipped to new place whenever I figure out where in the hell that's going to be.
my mother moved out of her place at the aforementioned little town maybe 6 years ago--(it was the "polite fiction" that she was moving into my grandmothers to help take care of her, but everybody knew that it was the other way around) the contents of her house was divided amongst my grandmothers & a storage shed. when my grandmother passed away in December, what was there was further divided into what went to the apartment I & my sister rented for her & the garage out behind my place (which burned down two weeks ago with everything in it--it's been a lousy couple of weeks.)
thing is--mom liked STUFF. almost all of it is just--stuff. she was a sucker for cutesy, for collectible, for catalogs. plastic products with corporate logos or little sayings. she had a taste for the mass-produced.
gotta go.
catculus:
vegetarian is good :-D
orchid1:
I'm sorry you've had such a lousy few weeks, my sympathies about your grandma and your mom. That's rough. But on a higher note, you are a very good story teller. Good Luck! <Hug>