The cleaning progresses. The coat closet in the living room: done. The vacuum actually goes in and out of the closet without a fight now.
I gradually work my way toward the tornado closet in the bathroom. That closet easily holds me and two cats during bad weather. Right now it contains all the stuff that really has no home. When I reach the tornado closet, most of the work will be done.
Of course, that one will prove the most difficult. That closet represents the line in the sand for those things I hold onto for reasons I am not sure of anymore. My ViewMaster sits on one of the shelves, also a custom pool cue. My camera, which requires film, an antique now. Scrapbooks collect dust and tiny bug bodies. A large box on the floor contains Christmas paper, some yellow with age. That closet holds a lifetime.
Do we need to purge ourselves to let more in, or are we a limitless vessel?
I miss you muchly.
Later.
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