We were ruthless yesterday.
While G was off to the museum on Saturday, I laid plans for “the hunt” on Sunday. Since we didn’t find grandpa’s papers downstairs Saturday morning, where I had thought they might be, we needed to dig out the old journals from our obscure attic. No papers there either, but we found the journals that had the names. While things were being hauled out, half of what’s up there headed for the thrift store.
Three quilts went to the store, one pillow sorted to Father Joe, plus all the boxes of journals came down. We did find the three with the genealogical data…but no dates. While we were doing all this, we emptied another four boxes of stuff out of the room too. Red pillows in my closet for the day we switch from red to blue in the living room. Another three blue pillows.
In that upper attic now are only the boxes of my journals, the winter quilt, and the Christmas ornaments. I felt truly heroic. Ruthless indeed.