Housecleaning

I'm on the porch as I write, where it's a beautiful 68 degrees. This spot gets only a narrow band of sunshine in early spring but after the summer solstice that band will rapidly expand northward. By late fall it will fill the porch with sunshine, and on December 21st it will be through the sliding doors and up against my desk.

Despite the limited sunshine the potted plants are doing surprisingly well. Even the geraniums, which admittedly are a bit leggy, are blooming now, on this second day of June. This unusually warm spring is a little worrying, but it's hard not to be appreciative.

Maybe because it's spring, or maybe because it just needed doing, I've been spending part of each day cleaning and organizing cupboards and drawers. It always feels good to get rid of clutter and sweep away the detritus that floats in when no one's looking. Because Ray needed a lot of my attention when we moved in I put things away hurriedly and belongings still turn up in odd places. Yesterday I found the silver wine cooler in the spare bathroom, tucked away in the cabinet behind a supply of Costco toilet paper and miscellaneous bottles of old shampoo and cleaning supplies. Clearly I hadn't missed it.

One of my chores has been to collect all Ray's cycling gear, from jerseys and rain jackets to inner tubes and tools. I washed and folded the clothes and managed to get everything else in a box or a bag, and Jennifer will be picking it up, along with his bike, this evening.

I thought this would be a painful exercise but in fact it's only made me a little sad. Mostly, I think, because Ray was insistent that when we no longer wanted or needed a thing it be offered elsewhere, even if well worn, because "somebody can use this." And I know he wouldn't want his beloved bicycle stuck in a storage closet on a sunny day like this one.

It also helps that there will be a lot more room in the storage closet.

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An email from my Norwich, England friend bemoans Trump's upcoming visit, along with his praise for Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson. She is as distraught over conditions in Great Britain as we are about Trump's norm busting and law breaking, and our emails tend to mutual consolation when not relaying outrage. Personally, I'm looking forward to Britain's anti-Trump protests and the hovering Trump Baby balloon that has been given permission to fly over London. Humor works. Sometimes it's the only option.