Move it! Part two…

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A little background info.

When the hospice facility did an assessment on my SIL and determined she didn’t “rate” that level of care anymore, the search for a nursing home bed began. We were assured she could stay at the hospice until one became available, but they neglected to mention the bill would have to be privately paid from that moment on.

Our poor niece has been carrying that (pay in advance) $500 a day burden for weeks. When she said she was already $10,000 in, we realized we couldn’t let her pay the $1,000 fee The Dump Guys were going to charge to haul away the remainder of things in her mother’s apartment.

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So we filled my husband’s truck.

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We filled the apartment complex’s dumpster.

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And we filled a friend’s truck and trailer. Then we made arrangements to donate the whole lot.

But first, a much needed moment of laughter.

There were three bottles of Bud Light left in the refrigerator, and after pinning a stray rainbow earring on a friends shirt in celebration of the now hated beer, we smiled for the first time all day.

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Even our niece, who doesn’t drink… and had just broken down in tears after seeing all her mother’s things ready to leave for the last time… smiled.

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Love… not to mention laughter … really are the best medicines.

💕

To be continued…

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Everyone loves the Red Sox.

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We live in Maine, ergo we watch (and love) the Red Sox.

But it seems like we’re not the only species to do so.

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This was the scene at a recent game. And in typical nothing bothers New Englanders fashion, play continued even though a pair of mallard ducks had landed right in the middle of Fenway Park.

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Being Boston fowl, they made themselves at home in the outfield, munching grass and doing what ducks are apt to do.

Poop.

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But hey, the Sox won the game… so no one was complaining.

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Move it! Part one…

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My husband’s sister is now in a nursing facility and sadly, will never be going home again . With the state taking all but $40 a month of her income to cover the (insane!) cost, emptying her apartment and canceling all her subscriptions, accounts and services went to the top of her daughter’s list.

For us, this meant enlisting the help of a few friends and lending a hand. Physically, and emotionally.

It was a hard day.

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Our niece’s fella just had shoulder surgery and was down to one working arm, but was there pitching in as well.

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The apartment was on the third floor and the absolute farthest from the elevator.

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Yes. That’s a giant stuffed tiger… for which I have no reasonable explanation.

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After a few hours of moving furniture? I swear that hallway got longer.

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And the elevator? Smaller.

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This foldable cart from Amazon was a life saver. The amount of weight it held was surprising.

To be continued….

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News you can’t use.

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Useless, but addicting… no?

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This is the very definition of useless news.

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See? You could have gone all day without knowing that.

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I think the cross makes this outfit. Nothing like piety like a good circumboob.

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If you’re going to lay out a veritable plant buffet, you have to expect random nibblers.

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I, on the other hand… do not.

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Adhesive?

And it sticks to… what?

Hard pass.

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My name is River.. and I’m a soap addict.

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After cleaning and organizing our master bath closet the other day, I turned my attention to the the spare bathroom. I don’t know about you, but in our house that’s where everything we don’t know what else to do with lands. I pulled vases, and candle sticks, and pitchers, a footed glass bowl and yes, even a crock pot out of there.

What that left me with was this…

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And by this I mean 10 bottles of Mrs. Meyers soap.

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Yes 10.

As well as 11 more bars of soap… to go with the 15 I’d found the other day.

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I haven’t yet decided if we’re extremely clean or extremely dirty. But if it’s the latter?

God damn it, we’re ready.

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A bonus find was 3 bottles of Jo Malone perfume.

Proof positive it pays to clean.

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You’re doing it wrong.

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Red squirrel annihilation training began the other day and I have to say…

It did not go well.

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After a few half hearted swats,

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten made friends.

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And in true I’m not doing what you want because I’m a cat fashion…

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The beast actually stared out the window at the real red squirrel …

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With a stuffed red squirrel facsimile on his head.

Sigh.

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