Week Twenty...

 

The week started out with the annual Postal Food Drive.  It's a national drive for local food pantries where customers can put nonperishable food items in their mailbox, and we pick it up and get it to the pantry for them.  In our area we are the biggest supplier of food, second only to the Thanksgiving Parade drive the town does in November.  This was my donation this year, because food insecurity should never come between anyone and their birthday cake.

Sunday found the Hubs and I at the Brimfield Antique Show.  If you are unfamiliar, it's a HUGE fair where people come to sell literally everything you can think of. Last year I found a 5-gallon glass water cooler jug reminiscent of my childhood, and a bank of PO boxes I turned into furniture for under the TV.  Having lugged those over a quarter mile back to the truck, this year we borrowed my friend's garden cart, in case of treasures. The day started slow, I found this huge basin that, while I specifically bought to store in the garage for lobster Sundays, I totally love, and now resides on top of the fridge.

We started mid field and worked our way back down to where we started last year.  We stumbled upon the vendor that had all the PO boxes last year.  While I had no intention to get another, we were checking out the last one he had, an 8-box unit, when some guy behind us says Twenty Bucks!!!

SOLD

I have no idea what I'm going to do with it yet.  So many ideas, so little money. So, for now it will wait in the garage for it's transformation.

Speaking of no money, we've been tucking away a bit here and there since 2020 when we thought the fridge was about to die. The oven is also on it's last legs, and wouldn't you know it, the dishwasher died completely on Wednesday. Since we bought it at Sears, which went out of business around here about 8 years ago, when the Hubs and I discussed it, we decided not to fix, but rather replace it. Knowing he also didn't want to install it, I looked into the install costs. Yeah, no. Way too much for something we can do ourselves, so that project is good to go for the weekend, as well as finishing up the paint in Oldest's bedroom.

Which brings me to today, where I sit patiently for FedEx to deliver Youngest's new big boy bed. Oddly enough it never occurred to me that he's had the same bed since he was eight, and that his feet *might* be falling off the end every night. We discussed options, flipping his room with the other side of the basement, measuring, reviewed how much space he'd lose. Yesterday I flipped his current room so the bed would fit in, swapped out the carpet, blah blah... it was a ton of work, but hopefully it will work out. The next step will be to list his old bed, headboard, and trundle frames on marketplace as well as the king size frame he bought during the chaos of being homeless, to see if we can recoup some cash.

I feel like my whole life is a cycle of moving things in and out, without actually getting anywhere. I know progress is being made, just sometimes I feel like the wheels are just spinning on the treadmill.