There was a strange percussive sound in the house as the snow on the roof began to melt in earnest yesterday. I'd like to say I am sorry to see it go . . . but not really . . . and I think you knew that. It's dingy and gray out there. A nice rain might be helpful, but we cannot have that because, as you have suspected, I have not finished cleaning the basement.
I'm sure we've discussed my basement but when I went to look for the link, I could not find anything. I should tag items. Well, in case we haven't, I'll make this brief. My town is in a glacial pit; all the water runs down hill and into people's basements. A big melt and a big rain is basement trouble for sure. We haven't had much snow the past few years, so we haven't had much water in our basement, but there is one heck of a lot of snow this year, and I am concerned because . . . there is a lot of disorganization in my basement. Disorganization plus water is never, never a good combination.
At some point this winter, when I realized how snowy it was and what melting was going to mean, I vowed I would clean the basement. In my defense, I have made a nice start, but I have a long, long, long way to go. (If certain adult s'kids of mine would come and claim the boxes, bags, and stereo systems which belong to them, that would help the ol' s'mother out.)
What was the point of this blog entry? A certain adult s'kid this weekend said, "I enjoy reading your blog, but really who else would?" I know she meant this in the best, most loving possible way.
Oh, yes, complete change of subject . . .
It was my anniversary this weekend and without getting all "today is the day I married my best friend and I'd do it all over again blah, blah, blah, gag . . ." on you, I just want to say Brent is about the coolest thing since sliced bread, the least crazy person I've ever met (which is a nice balance in the relationship), and one of the only guys I know who can play the keyboard standing up without looking like Laurie Partridge.
Okay, well, maybe a little bit.