Have you ever been at a relative or friend's house and they directed you to get yourself a glass or a plate? Usually, you open a cabinet to find some logical structure and order to the dishware. And usually, many of the pieces inside it might even match.
Usually. And then there's my late great uncle's house where the segregating and packing up of everything in the entire place continues in earnest.
Last night, I helped empty a china cabinet (of a set that seemed to have at least 40 of EVERY piece), clear a closet, and empty not one, not two, but THREE cabinets overflowing with both dishes and glasses. This was where we had stopped the night before, not only because it was getting late but because we were daunted by the sheer volume of it.
We speculate that the girlfriend is responsible for some of the mismatched madness cloaked by the cabinetry. (Since you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, I'll reserve comment on her taste in dishes.) Understandably, my family wanted no part of these so they were boxed up for future sale. We tried desperately to sort the collection by design, packing what like things there were together. The evening was a flurry of newspaper, glassware and boxes.
When it was all said and done, there was quite a pile of boxes to be seen everywhere. A stack in the livingroom to be sold or donated, a thinner pile on the sunporch to go home or to the restaurant. We were feeling pretty good about the progress until my baby cousin realized that this was only upstairs -- there was still a basement to do.
"And the garage," I reminded her. Her eyes glazed over.
Even so, there will be no packing tonight. Not only is everyone just plain tired, but life beckons. There are children's sport events to attend, a fledgling business to be tended to, and, for me, a concert to see. (The MonkeyGirl has graciously agreed to accompany me to see B.B. King and Buddy Guy tonight after the illustrious B., who is generally my cohort for BB concerts, has thrown me over for a work event. I know that secretly, she'd rather be dancing with Buddy Guy.)