I did a bit of cleaning yesterday, too. Maybe we can get recycling bins into pantry with dog food can. I put other can in hall closet (east end, with Xmas stuff and falling-down batt insulation) and I put the crisper and meat bins from fridge— which have been on the floor for a month or more, for apparently no reason—they had potatoes but I planted them 2-3 weeks ago already— and so I put those bins in pantry, on shelves—and I went through the big black garbage bag from the car, which had M’s tape dispenser, violin music, newspapers, etc.
And I recycled the big boxes from portable AC and my lawn mower (by the way, the back roller bar fell off last week—weeds got wrapped around it and maybe that was what pushed aside the holder bars—not too sturdy there).
Anyway, happy: so if we had our own newer house … No, I don’t need a house to be happy. I am happy when I write.
[From journal of Mon., 19 July 2010, Journal 130, page 37-8]
MonkeyMoonMachine 