Should I Save Her? Time Blow(s) Away at Midlife.
Wednesday was nonstop.
One of those crazy days, racing here and yon.
On one trip, I looked up halfway down my grassy, bumpy drive to spy this . . .
GASP. George Harrison Best of Dark Horse. Only one of my favorite CDs.
I know. I’m intolerably old with my discs but I love this one and have had to order it twice from random people (who obviously don’t care about George like I do) because they don’t print the CD anymore.
Linking up again with Adventeroo.com and A Week in My Life 2012.
In all the rushing, I did stop for a moment early afternoon for an interview on a piece I’m starting to pull together.
We sat outside on a porch in the warm air.
It was lovely.
But earlier in the day when I stopped to rescue George, I was headed to a local clothes closet.
In all my recent rage to clean out and organize our attic, my girlfriend helped me sort my things on where to best donate.
So I loaded up the old Burban.
As I put the things into the car, I noticed a trend.
Lots of baby stuff.
Had it been that long since I used some of these things?
This post might only outline my tasks for a solitary day — but looking over at the Pack-n-Play leaving me forever, it felt like decades lodged in my heart.
I almost reached over and pull the shoulder belt over her.
Should I save her?
No silly. Your future daughter-in-law is most probably not going to want to drop her bundle into a portable crib with two decade of dust layered in every musty corner.
Or maybe I’m the one who’s getting a little mold under her fingernails?
A middle-aged woman with no baby paraphernalia in her house.
No. Of course it was the right thing to donate the baby clutter and they were happy to get it.
I really didn’t feel the least bit sad driving away with an empty car.
Though I did turn up George to what might be considered uncomfortably loud for a middle-aged woman with no baby stuff under her rafters.
Oh well.
Blow away, blow away, blow away.
