Purge

SO and I are working on reorganizing our garage so we can make a gaming station out there for the boys to use when it's not miserably hot or cold. We figure they could get about two and a half seasons of use out of it.

We're pretty good about going through our junk every few years, so at least the thing isn't stacked floor to ceiling with acquisitions. Looks like we'll be making a trip to the hazardous waste dump because we've got lots of half-used cans of paint, insecticides, and other items too dangerous to put in the trash.

I found a box of old letters from family and friends. I weighed the pros and cons of throwing the whole bunch into the recycling bin until SO reminded me that few people write letters anymore. "Maybe our kids won't be interested in those, but our great-grandkids might."

I imagined finding a box of letters written to my own great-grandparents. What a treasure that would be! Wouldn't it reveal their characters to me in a way that family stories never could? I decided to keep the letters and store them in the hopes that a future Adjective Queen might enjoy them one day.

I also found two of my childhood diaries. I got a kick out of reading entries to SO until he very patiently asked me when I thought I'd be done so he could read his own book in peace.

Here's an entry from the 1976-76 edition (spelling errors included):

Jan. 4. I am sitting on my bed writing in you. I don't want to go look at cartoons rite now because I feel I am to old. I am ten years old. We go to music lessons today. I hate them. I don't ever get a day off.

How many times have I heard Sport complain in the same way about piano lessons?

Another entry from the 1977-1978 edition.

Jan. 3. Today was school. Hard to get up this morning ... Mr. Slack told us about "Close Encounters of the Third Kind". It sounds good. Probably will out sale "Star Wars." MAYBE. Haven't seen "Star Wars" yet. I hope we can see it soon.

Guess I got that prediction wrong!