Project Two, the Attic. Done.

Project Two, the Attic.  Done.
Standing by, just in case she had to revive me by licking my face.

Steve is never permitted to skeedaddle to Florida until all the Christmas stuff is in the attic.  This year he got lucky:  it was cold the week before he left, and so despite his OCD need to have things in order, he tossed the crates and foliage into the opening at the top of the pull down ladder,and checked it off his list.


I am OCD about my attic.  I love it.  My magic contractor, Bill Appelhans,  fixed my venting issues, installed a floor, built and bought shelves to accomodate my stuff.  He actually measured my stuff!  The pulldown staircase he installed is heavy duty, meaning Steve COULD use it without structural stress.  In fact, the treads are like a staircase, and I can descend facing forward. Milly often joins me up there when I am hunting for something I have stored.  (Not today- she is in the literal dog house after eating my hamburger buns off the counter.) I can stand and walk from one end to another.






Today’s warm weather meant I had a date with chaos.  I spent three hours re-boxing, storing and organizing all the stuff that Steve flung to the corners.  Every bin has a tag telling me what room the Christmas decorations are from.  The decorations are clustered so that each shelf represents a room.  I should be able to procede in an orderly method next year.  I won’t of course.


Then I put the wreaths in garbage bags and hung them from the rafters.  I swept the pine needles (fake) and glitter up, and said goodbye to my junk.  If I am unable to fulfill my obligations as a Christmas elf next year, the tags and geography would make it easy for someone else to carry on.  My bet is that they wouldn’t bother.

Just in case, though….Done.

Half a day later...

Half a day later…


And if dogs could read, I would be sending a shout out to Mabel the big old Lab Dahl, who stood guard at the foot of the stairs just in case I plunged from the gaping hole.  I think she knows I was a little anxious about lifting and dragging things with no back up and a knee made of play dough.


I am not sure what she would have done had I tumbled upon her, but her presence warmed me. Misery loves company.  It does not take much to rise to the top of the food chain in my empty house. She gets a chew strip tonight. I get a hot bath.

If I fell on her, I would kill her.  She loves me enough to chance it, I guess.

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