Well, my “clean up” of the two back bedrooms “was” complete-----until I looked under the beds.

When I moved here from across the street five years ago, I moved dozens and dozens of boxes myself.  My neighbor loaned me a push-dolly, I loaded it with boxes--packed and labeled--and made trip after trip across the street to my new house--by myself.  I really don’t know how I did it all by myself.  But I did.

I stored them in those two back spare bedrooms with the intention of opening them someday and deciding what to do with the stuff.  I thought I was through last week.  But forgot that the big flat ones went under the beds.  Mercy.

This morning, I got back at it.  It is amazing how much we save in a lifetime.  No one wants it, but we just can’t throw it away.  Well, those boxes are open now and they are having a bonfire at the dump.

I am the one who has never put anything in the attic in over fifty years.  Every move (27) I cleaned  stuff out and threw it away or gave it away.  So there wasn’t that much to do....

But most of this was paper from Ken’s Marine Corps days. Someone else is going to have to do that.  I can’t.  It’s what I have left.  That and a few caps that he wore.  The good thing is that the most valuable things I have left are memories.  Priceless.  God is good.