What a week!

What a strange confluence of events. Yesterday Brexit became official, saddening half of Britain, and the US Senate took the first step toward inaugurating Trump as king, angering half of America. Tomorrow is the Super Bowl, about which I have no comment. Sunday is also the second anniversary of Ray's death. Monday is the Iowa Caucus, the first time Democrats have a chance to tell someone other than a pollster or reporter what they think. Tuesday is the State of the Union address (gloating promised), and Wednesday is the day the Republicans officially acquit the president for fraudulent acts they acknowledge to be proven.

What a week! Twitter is afire, voters are nervous, football fans are preparing for agony or ecstasy, and I'm exhausted.

I watched most of the historic "trial," but I kept my mind and hands busy sorting through boxes of photographs and tossing about 40 pounds worth. Ray's love of photography meant we had pictures of everything—often in duplicate. Sports car races from the 60s, track meets from the 70s, bicycle races from the 80s, etc. Also 50 years of friends and family gatherings. Who are all these people?

This clearing out is an ongoing process. It's hard, often emotional work, but I'm discomfited by excess and feel lighter and happier when I don't have to see or think about it. Just having three different bottles of hand cream makes me a bit uncomfortable.

But hand cream uncomfortable is nothing compared to this plethora of historic events and changes and upset and drama coming at us this week. That's excess. I suggest filling a trash bag with whatever is handy. You'll feel better. And surely life will return to normal soon. Surely.

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