3 days hard labor
August 12, 2014

3 days hard labor On Friday, I got up at 4:30, went to work and hustled my butt off for 4.5 hours, then went to Walmart and did some necessary shopping. Went home, did all the laundry and a bunch of other housework till Spouse got home. Then we went straight to work on the yard, getting all the mowing, trimming, watering, plant feeding, etc. knocked out of the way. (And what a joy that was. Spouse is never more of a dick than when he does the yard work. He hates it, and it puts him in an absolutely foul mood.) After the yard was done, we got cleaned up, and went shopping at Sam's, gassed up the car, mailed a copy of my mom's memorial to Auntie, and did the grocery shopping. It was after eight when we got home, and by the time everything was put away and I hung up the last load of clothes, it was 9:00. I never got any dinner, but I was too tired to eat anyway.

Saturday morning, I got up, had coffee and a danish, changed out my purse, packed my bag, showered and dressed...and hit the road for the 2.5 hour drive to Dad's. Went straight to work helping him with the flower pots, deadheading several huge geraniums, petunias, etc. Then my nephew arrived; he had driven up for the day to help Grandpa get some stuff moved. But first, Dad decided, we had to knock out the outstanding thank you notes. With a team effort, we got through them in a couple of hours. After running downtown for a quick sandwich, we came back and went to work in earnest. I dumped out all the remaining funeral flowers, washed the vases, and then started on the main project Daddy had for me--consolidating refrigerators. I started with the one in the laundry room, and threw away 3 hefty bags full just of the of expired crap. Then I moved to the kitchen fridge and did the same. After that, I gutted and scrubbed the one in the kitchen--omg what a job. I was crying to see how bad it was--how long it had been since Mom could keep it the way she would want to. Spilled liquids, mummified vegetables, an entire box of baking soda that had gotten tipped over down the back of the shelves at some point. Aside from being horrid to clean up, it was heartbreaking to see my mom's fridge in that state.

After much scrub water and effort, I got it done, put in the now greatly reduced supplies, arranged it to Dad's specs, and at that point I was so beat I couldn't see straight. Keep in mind that it's August in the Midwest, and my dad doesn�t run the air unless you put a gun to his head. I may have had my head in a refrigerator, but I was sweating like a pig.

While I was working on that, Dad and Nephew worked on the enormous mass of crap filling the garage. They filled the pickup bed and hauled a load to the storage locker, unloaded it, came back and worked on clearing a path to from the front to the back of the garage, sorting, stabilizing, and marking boxes. So we all had a long day. Once Nephew headed for home, Dad & I sat outside and talked for a while--so he could smoke :( --and then ran to the DQ for a bite. All I wanted was a strawberry malt. When I get tired, I get very UN-hungry. Back to the house, and dead in the (very uncomfortable) guestroom bed shortly thereafter.

But since it WAS so uncomfortable--seriously, Dad, I don't care how expensive that bed was, you could have achieved the same effect with a sheet of plywood and a mattress pad--I was up shortly after five. So I took my pills, made my bed, showered, dressed, and had a couple of cups of coffee. Ran to the mini-mart for donuts, had more coffee...then went to work with a vengeance.

The laundry room fridge was empty at this point, but I had not cleaned it yet. And if I thought the first one was a mess, I had to find a whole new word for this one.

First--when my parents bought that fridge 20 years ago, it was an emergency. Old fridge "took a shit" (Dad's words) the day before Thanksgiving, when the whole family was expected for the holiday. So they rushed out to buy a new one, hauled it home, installed it, and loaded it up that evening. Somewhere in the shuffle and rush, they never ever got around to taking out the wire, tape, plastic, and styrofoam protectors and restraints used by the manufacturer to secure the interior during transport.

And with those in place, the interior was so secure that my mom was never able to clean it properly. So it wasn't just a matter of the last few years--there was two full decades of grossness in the bottom of that thing. ((shudder))

Second--having bought the thing in a hurry, they gave no thought to the fact that that particular model had the maximum number of fiddly bits a fridge could have. Containers with lids, three drawers, shelves, ice dispensers, water dispensers, light covers, reservoir covers, wire baskets...a wine bottle holder, for criminy's sake.

Once I figured out that everything had to be freed first, I did so, and pulled all the removable stuff. Dad jumped in and started washing those things, while I got a bucket of hot water and ammonia, a rag, and a brush, and dove into hell.

Over two hours later, with both of us working on it, we had it done. Scrubbed and reassembled and unplugged and looking damned good, in my opinion.

Dad was astounded by the amount of work that was necessary to get those two fridges properly sorted. He had no idea. In fact, he mentioned that he was constantly amazed at how long all these housework projects took. I told him "You are starting to figure out what Mom was doing all day, all those years when you couldn't figure out what she did all day!" He said he had to agree with me there.

But I wasn't done. Next, he had me clean out the spice cupboard. Not a huge deal--had it all cleaned out, wiped out, and his few necessary items put back. All the stuff he never would need he sent home with me.

Up the stepladder to the high cupboard over the stove...seasonal baking supplies. Most of which had to be chucked because the mice apparently are willing to chew through heavy plastic to get at the Wilton sprinkles. Got that one emptied, vacuumed, and disinfected.

Cleaned out the cupboard with all the boxes of tea and my mom's FIVE recipe card files. (One from each grandma and three of her own).

Sat on the floor and pulled about four dozen cookbooks off the bottom shelf of the baker's rack, went through them, threw away the crap, and boxed up the rest to take home.

Cleaned out a big, bin-style kitchen drawer and threw away about 14 old jar candles, and found all the butane matches Dad had been looking for. Tested them, threw away the two that didn't work, and let Dad find a place for them that made sense to HIM.

Took a peak at the cupboard he called "the boar's nest" (love my dad!), shuddered, and decided to do it on another visit. BUT--only about an hour before I did that, I had explained to dad that they make microfiber mats that you can use to drain your dishes, if you don't want a big dish drainer on your counter. He thought that sounded like just the kind of thing he wanted, if he could find one.

Want to guess what fell out of that cupboard when I opened it?

Thanks, Mom! Brand new microfiber dish mat from Bed, Bath & Beyond, still in the package. Dad and I had a laugh over that one.

So Dad and I worked our way through all of that, and it was only 11:30. He had a smoke break, I began to talk about getting ready to leave about noon...and he came up with one more thing he wanted me to help him with. A BIG one.

Going through Mom's purse. He told me he couldn't face doing it alone.

Mom's purse. The Sanctum Sanctorum. The freakin' Temple of DOOM. Yeah, that wasn't weird or anything.

So I spent another hour, and we went through her bag. Cleaned out both her wallets (I am telling you--mom didn't have just ONE of anything!). Dad gave me her newer one--it's a cute, hot pink clutch-style. After he cleared all the junk, he made a pile of her credit cards to cancel, a pile of joint cards to have her name removed from, and a stack of gift cards and pre-paid debit cards for me to look up the balances on.

Being a saver, as she was, meant that all of the cash back debit cards from Discover and bonus debit cards from various other card programs were tucked away and "saved for a rainy day". Well, she would have been pretty unhappy if she'd tried to use them, since they were all eaten up by their own fees and have a current value of ZIP. Mom never understood that sometimes, to save is to waste.

Once we got done with that, it was almost 1:00 and I really had to get moving. So I said my goodbyes, gave him some hugs and some encouragement, and went on my way.

With boxes, bags, baskets and a cooler full of stuff. Most of which I didn't want, but was taking because I can throw it away and Daddy can't bring himself to.

Made good time coming home, 2.5 hours on the dot. Emptied the cooler, threw away a bunch of stuff, unpacked, and then Spouse and I ran to the store because he had a dinner planned and needed a few things. I had been going like gangbusters all day, and aside from those cups of coffee and two donuts in the morning, all I'd had was a few jawbreakers. I was starting to lag, and I was hotter than a pawnshop watch. It was still an hour till dinner, so I left that to Spouse and actually hit the pool for a while!

After I was feeling refreshed and cooled off, I watered the plants, then came in and slipped into shorts and a tee, and made the gravy to go with Spouse's homemade Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and peas. Now I am sure that dinner would have been delicious no matter what, but being ravenous didn't exactly take away from its appeal. I've said it a million times, but--OMG that boy is a good cook.

Apparently my hunger was the only thing keeping me from succumbing to my exhaustion, because I spent the rest of the evening trying desperately to stay awake till at least 9. Which I did. Kind of. Barely.

So. That was my exhausting, excruciating weekend. I managed to get cut, bruised, burned, twisted, and broken out in a heat rash. OOF.

But I know it was worth it. Just the opportunity to spend time with my Dad made it that.