There is a distinctive feel when remnants of hurricanes stroll through New England. At 9 a.m. the relative humidity is 90% (temperature 74°F and dew point 71°F). We run window air conditioners to dry the inside air. A perfect opportunity to empty files and straighten piles in the home office. It will be a chore not because I am disorganized but because I always have so many projects going on, many of which have their roots in scraps of paper and obscure journal articles. Before beginning, I viewed a day in the life and was inspired. To prove how hard this cleaning task will be, I will describe stuff on a shelf next to my desk.
- Digital camera. It is on this shelf because last Thursday night, people rummaged through our trash (searching for treasures) and left garbage that had been in the can out on the lawn. If they had returned this week, I was going to take flash pictures and explain that I was going to sell the images to the local paper. No visitors. But the camera still sits where I could grab it.
- Cosmos seeds. They are the fourth generation. These are great little plants because they tolerate neglect and produce happily bright blossoms. After the petals fall away they leave a brittle brown starburst consisting of oddly shaped seeds. All that is required to harvest them is to strip them off with a gentle pull. I feel like the seeds should dry before I put in an envelope until next spring. For some reason the brown seeds are drying on top of a …
- Dissertation proposal. This document by someone else's advisee is a dissertation that is now over. It started out so well, but over time the sample size shrunk, not through attrition but because of the volume of data. The worst part was that the advisor, whose project the dissertator was researching, ended up answering more of the questions than the student during the defence. This a good example of the detritus that needs to be recycled today.
- Lobster-shaped cookie cutter. We don’t make use cookie cutters at the holidays. We have the kind that are either round or rectangles cut out of a thick sheet. But in the event that I do need to cut something out of dough that is shaped liked a lobster, I’m all set.
- Boat whistle. Sunday morning we took the canoe to a nearby fishing lake just to paddle around. As we were unloading from the car, a guy approached us from the Coast Guard Auxiliary. He asked to inspect our water craft, if we had life vests (we do), and whether we had a noise-making device. I thought maybe this meant I should buy an air horn in the event we overturned and couldn’t wade to shore. He provided us with two flat plastic whistles on lanyards.
- Half-pint ilk bottle. Thick-walled glass with raised lettering that identified it as from the University of Connecticut. Apparently, this was a novelty sold in the 1970s for 75 cents. At least that’s what the yellowed newspaper clipping says that is rolled up inside. A gift from a friend who was cleaning her attic or garage.
- A Guinness coin bank. This held a pair of pajama bottoms that my brother gave me. That he works at Kohl’s and the gift came from there is not an issue. The pj’s were stunningly ugly, far too tight and overly warm if you like to sleep under a blanket. But the container had a slot in the top and is now heavy with spare change.
- A bowling trophy. I never won a trophy. This was a gag gift from a duckpin bowling/ surprise birthday party. The brass plaque reads “The Best Bowler With Small Balls, 2006.” It is too spectacular to put anywhere but where it now sits.
- Old batteries. I never know what to do with these. One is a 9-volt the other AA. Do I save them to recycle next time we go to Ikea (every 12 months)? Or, as I have heard is safe, throw them out with the regular trash? Perhaps I should try to recharge them with one of two or three Radio Shack rechargers that are in the office somewhere. I know they get hot and that they can explode. But the economics, along with delaying the disposal question dilemma, is why they sit there. Today they will go in the trash. Starting now.
No comments:
Post a Comment