No, I'm not talking about weight loss, though of course that's always a goal- I'm referring to the bags and boxes of accumulation I have collected.
I am getting rid of more 'stuff'.
Tin boxes, gee-gaws, kitsch, the trivia that buries me, even though I have taking car loads to the salvation army and thrown out bag after bag, I am still barely holding my head up above the surface.
The Smart Box we have in the driveway (for the kitchen repairs) has to go by the weekend so we don't have to pay for another month (It doesn't have much in it, but what is there must be found a place for or gotten rid of). The daughter has moved all her stuff in (and has a 10x10 storage unit for household things and extras) and she has stuff to put into place.
It's hot. So outside work is slow going, but at least I have time and an air-conditioned house.
One of the local poets is homeless. He has a car and a job, but medical issues have put him in personal jeopardy and he is sleeping at the Salvation Army (for another month). he came to Shockoe poets on Sunday and read three of his new works and they are profound and touching, some of the best work he's ever done.
When poetry rises from truth it carries itself differently, walks with a firm step and speaks with quiet insistence- I hope he can continue to write in the midst of adversity and is able to prevail.