Today I join my fellow bloggers in "serving up a slice"
to the Tuesday Slice of Life (SOL) community.
Thanks to Stacey, Tara, Betsy, Dana, Beth, and Anna
for hosting this meeting place each Tuesday
and for nurturing our writing lives.
Stair climbers . . . I remember my first encounter decades ago at a health club. Modern man's instrument of torture, second only to the stationary bike. I banned both from my life. But yesterday I indulged in stair climbing with weights.
In June 2013 I brought home several boxes and crates from my classroom promising to spend some time organizing them over the summer. Sunshine, lunch on the deck, good books, and walks with friends enticed me more than organizing. I never moved those boxes back to school. If there was something that I couldn't find, I just reminded myself to look in the boxes and crates in the guest bedroom.
Fast forward June to 2014, the end of the school year and the end of my teaching career. I moved 30+ boxes out of my classroom and into the garage at home. My husband kept reminding me that the boxes had to gone by January since our contractor would need the garage space during our kitchen remodel project scheduled for February. I whittled away, a box or two a week, but as the weather grew cooler working in the garage was not on my list of desired activities. So in December I moved the remainder of the boxes into the guest bedroom. A perfect activity for the slow days of January, right? And then a friend took a medical leave, and I stepped into her shoes as school librarian for six weeks. Plus I had my share of moving and packing of boxes to do in preparation for the kitchen project.
Yesterday I lugged the teaching boxes and crates upstairs into my son's former bedroom, now dubbed the junk room by my husband. My son, Blake and his wife, Stefi were coming for a quick visit. No one wants to sleep in a room surrounded by boxes.
My organizing project has reached the end of the road. There's nowhere else to go, no more stairs to climb, no other place to stash my treasures. It's time to purge and organize. My six weeks in the school library are done, and I'm filled with hope.