Moving ... and moving on

Well, I took some big steps today. Rented a storage unit at a nearby facility, and bought one of those multi-box-size things for packing. Seems strange to be making these choices by myself. Hope I can discipline myself to do the necessary packing. The guy who manages the storage place is originally from Michigan, so he and I had those common Midwestern roots to chat about. He's not a Yooper (what we call folks from the U.P. of MI) but enjoyed traveling and cross-country skiing up there. My parents were both Yoopers, thus my appreciation of that area.

Packing: I think I will start with the photos and slides that Greg dragged back to Houston following his father's death in March of 2008. I can feel safe in just packing them away and getting them to the storage unit. When I get back to MN, I can sort them into two groups - one for each side of his family, his dad's and his mother's. They don't belong to me anymore. I know of at least one cousin on each side who has expressed interest in the documents, photos, etc. His only sibling does not want any of this stuff, sad to say.

Took some more stuff up to the church donation place. Funny - the guys who work the afternoon shift up there on Saturdays, know me by sight now! This time it was watches and turtlenecks and miscellany. I am leaving a smattering of his clothes and shoes here in the closet, so that when the open houses are held, it will look like a guy is living here. It seems the safest thing to do.

Well, don't know how I managed it, but I did somehow just log myself off the internet. Magic! And I'm ba-a-a-ck...

Hey, P - you didn't tell me that you sneaked in a spicy chocolate truffle with the four-pak that you gave me. Thanks (I think!). Had to pour myself some milk to tamp down the fire in my mouth a bit - wasn't expecting that.

Good news: got a phone call from the lawn guy, who will resume cutting today. And while he was here, we talked about him putting down some weed-n-feed, and he'll do that for me, too. (I had mentioned to him that I was gonna contact ChemLawn because I just cannot keep up with this lawn stuff.)

And even better news - a phone call from the painter, who WILL be able to start power-washing my house this week. The nasty cold weather delayed that activity last week. AND... Leroy (painter) told me that Ruben (master electrician) will also be available, so he can install my new outside lights outside the door, front entry and back entry. Progress is about to made, people! So the investments that I made a week ago (new lights, 10 gallons of paint, 6 tubes of latex) will actually be put to use soon. I got those motion-detector lights. I think that is the wisest move for me. They are on a low-light program unless motion is detected, then BRIGHTS ON! The element of surprise may offer me a little more protection, and definitely more peace of mind, at the least. Damn, it is a bitch to be a woman living alone sometimes.

It is the 17th today, and two days ago marked the 8th month since Greg's death. It is getting a bit easier, but a part of him will always be with me. Not the least of that being, his pretty good-sized vinyl (records) collection - those former musicians tend to do things like that. And now I am trying to find folks who might be interested in certain artists. My sis wants a Rascals album that was played when she and her "kids" were here in May, and my niece wants a Whiskey River album (WR was the band that Greg played with for 10 years). A nice guy who works at the Cooking Collection (at our local H-E-B grocery store) expressed interest in any jazz albums. And I know I will cull some albums out for myself, too. Currently, there are ONLY about 6 wooden crates of albums upstairs. I think we moved about a dozen-crates plus, down here in 1984. And with the advent of CD's, he was growing that collection, too. A-a-a-r-r-r-g-h-h!

My neighbor across the street wants the rolling tool box thing-y that Greg had in the garage. I thought I might be forced to put it on Craig's List, but that will certainly save me the trouble. I really don't care how much I get for it - I just want someone to have it who will put it to good use. Now that means that I have to actually open those drawers and see what tools I will keep. When I met Greg, I had my own little tool box with some good-quality tools, and he gradually intermingled some of his and mine. Then I was looking for something specific one day (probably my needle-nose pliers) and had a fit when I couldn't find them. So he sorta restored "my" toolbox. I did lots of little fix-its back in the day, when I was single and had a little house of my own in a south Minneapolis suburb.

So... makin' progress here, folks. Each day, one step in front of the other. That's the only way to move forward, to reclaim and rebuild ME. I think I am startin' to like the new me - I am more light-hearted and laughter comes much more easily now. It ain't a walk in the park, but it now seems do-able. And that's a discovery that is surprising to me, after all those days and weeks in a fog, and then stumbling a lot, too.

Anyhoo... it's about quarter to ten as I am finishing the post. Gotta grab me something to eat - popcorn for dinner! Yummy. Catch y'all later in the next post.