The party's over — now it's time for the clean up
Now that the wedding is in the rear-view mirror, it’s kind of quiet around here. We figure that out within seconds of coming home from our holiday. The closing of the front door generates an echo. Pausing in the entry way, we look at each other. Silence? Here? Nah. The brief quiet is kicked to the curb by the escalating complaints of the two cats waiting at the top of the stairs. Wailing cats in tow, we wander the house, remarking on the vacant space.
We are now officially empty-nesters. The house is uncannily neat. This, in itself, is scary. When there are only two of you, the messer has no one to blame for the path of destruction left in his/her wake. Bad habits are out in the open, exposed like a nudist mowing the lawn.
Our daughter texts us she’s left a few things in the garage. We open the door. Ah yes, the garage . . . It’s controlled mayhem. The things she’s left behind are contained in boxes and crates. Oh look, she's left the wedding wine behind.
The garage, as always, is behaving true to form. It’s the final resting place for everything we don’t know what to do with, out of sight, out of mind. The wedding decor — dishes, lanterns, glassware — is neatly stacked and waiting. For what? I’m not sure, but I am sure that it’s time for a little Kaizen and the principles of 5S.
The next text comes later that night. Our daughter (I hear echoes of her thrifty Scots grandmother) is selling the wedding items. Market Place on Facebook is a thriving hotbed for all things wedding. Since, our bride found many of her items there, it’s only fitting they return to their roots.
The first to go is the box of lanterns. In her possession they’ve morphed from black to white. She makes a profit on the sale. Next are the growler vases, then the . . . you get the picture. Over the next month we act as product photographers, warehousers, and shippers. Our garage is a revolving door. Soon we can see the concrete floor again.
All this selling and space clearing has given my husband ideas. We have a few things around that we don’t need. The Ikea closet is the test case — two hundred plus views in the first four hours. Sold. The next is the refrigerator claiming space in the garage. Gone. Hmm. How about that gently used flute collecting dust under the stairs?
Later, I step back, look at the wide-open space in the garage, and wonder what we’ll fill it with. I’m sure there’s something out there, waiting for a home. But now, it’s time to get back to writing, time to explore new possibilities for 52 Over 50 Adventures. It’s time to finish the sequels to The Christmas Presence and A Trail of Embers.
September always feels like a beginning. So, here’s to fresh starts and new adventures. What’s on your 52 Over 50 list? Anyone looking to buy a flute?