Day Fifteen

Thirty-One, A Novel

Day One
Day Two  
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven
Day Eight
Day Nine
Day Ten
Day Eleven
Day Twelve
Day Thirteen
Day Fourteen



Day Fifteen, Monday

The project for today was the second bedroom. She made that list, and let it sit. Now, it was time to start.

The book boxes first.  The first one was all children’s books. No wonder she left it packed. She thumbed through, remembering read aloud sessions, times the boys would beg her to read one more chapter. But, this task, today, was not about remembering. She closed up the box. That one is thrift store.  Easy choice.

Second box. Craft books. Sewing patterns. Most of those she wanted to keep. She would make it a sewing, craft room. Fix up the table, fix one of the chairs. Plans formed in her head.

Third box, mostly over-size books. Atlases, a set of encyclopedias, old textbooks, no wonder it was so heavy. That one, too, on its way to the thrift store.

That was easy. Next item.  Two lamps. One worked, one didn’t. Another easy choice. Why had she moved all this stuff here? Two broken chairs. She flipped them over, looked at the legs, decided which was easier to repair.  The dresser, with two drawers missing. She had seen photos in magazines of painted dressers, with baskets slid in where drawers were missing. Looked cool. The drawers would be perfect for her sewing and craft supplies. She would move it to the back porch for sanding and painting.

 The old blankets?  She saved two to toss over her plants when early frost threatened. The rest she tossed in the trash. Old mop, trash. Broken CD player, thrift store pile for electronic recycling.

Candles. Those she would be using soon with the shorter days and the time change. Tom had always fussed about candles.  He thought she was forcing him to be romantic. She liked soft candle light, the motion of the shadows and flickers across the room.  A basket in the pantry would be good for the candles, the holders, some matches. Some of the smaller ones could go in the bathroom drawers, too. Once the daylight savings time changed, she decided she would eat dinner by candle light. That would be pleasant, calming, help her to slow down and relax while she ate her dinner.  Most of the vases would go to the thrift store. Jars worked just as well.

The old table she could paint the same as the dresser. The big cushy chair just needed a slip cover. She could sew that in her new sewing room. The winter bedding, she thought, could go in the small closet if she had a basket or storage container for them.

Last, the old magazines. She picked them up, thumbed through a few, and decided, “No.” Out to the recycling bin. It took three trips, carrying the stacks, but she loved the sense of lightweight, of freedom, of less baggage.

She looked at the clock. Not a bad morning’s work. In four armloads, she carried the thrift store stuff out to the car. All she needed to buy was paint and a storage bin for the winter blankets.

 Morgan stood in the door. Imagined the room. Thinking colors, arrangement, design, mood. She would put the table in the center. A room for productivity, creativity. Red and yellow for energy? Or, should she go with soft blue and light green – she liked those colors better. Would have to think about it.