More Decluttering

Friday I pulled the last box out of my closet and sorted through it.  Yay!  The only things still in there were a couple of oil paintings and a small architect's table (don't ask).  Saturday, I decide I'm going to get in there and wash the floor and walls, so I can put the stuff I'm keeping back in there.  First things first--I have to sweep.  There was a lot of cat fur and other, uh, things that needed to be disposed of.

The back wall of my closet is actually a door.  A kind-of pocket-door that leads to more storage under the eaves.  The only thing in there was a very old window-unit air conditioner.  That's what I thought anyway.  In my efforts to eliminate any loose pieces of, uh, matter, that were hiding between the door and the little threshold, I pushed the door open.  I was stunned.  Maybe that sounds a little dramatic, but it's the truth.  In the storage area, were three large boxes filled with books.  There was some type of little cabinet with a key in it's lock.  There was a lamp. There was also a laundry drying rack (for hanging delicates to dry inside).  The laundry rack is the only thing I was pleased to see.  I could barely move the boxes, but I dragged everything (except the aforementioned air conditioner) into my closet.  My almost-clean closet.  Tabitha and Chloe had to check the storage area and Khai came up to supervise.  Fortunately, Bebe waited until I was done for the day before investigating.

When I opened the first box, I found old computer information.  My dad had worked with computers since the 70's.  He had binders and folios with information.  Old computer manuals.  Reports on projects.  These were all stored in these boxes.  My first thought was to just throw everything out.  Then I realized there might be some historical value to some of the stuff.  So I'm going to have to sort through the three boxes.  That's bad enough.

The condition of these boxes is, well, hmmm, I guess I'll have to go with "yucky."  Or
"icky" would work, too.  When the roofers replaced our roof four years ago, they also had to replace a lot of boards that were rotting.  So these boxes and things were exposed, albeit briefly, to the elements.  Also to the dirt and dust that accompanies the replacing of a roof.  I'm thinking a pair of disposable latex gloves will not be up to the task.  I think a pair of rubber gloves would be appropriate.  A long pair of

rubber gloves.  Some coveralls would be nice, too.  And those little bootie things you put over your shoes.  Maybe I should just get myself a Hazmat suit?  Actually, I could have used all that in the closet.  When you have a cat that hides in said closet when she gets sick, well, I'll leave you with that mental image. *shudder*  I have already gone through a 10-pack of disposable gloves and started on a new one.

I'm discouraged.  Daunted.  Vexed.  I realize my plans have been derailed by others factors before this.  But I was so sure that there was nothing in there.  Why?  Because my father had told me so.  About a year before he died.  It makes me sad that he fibbed, that he couldn't confide in me, and that he died so I can't even go and give him a piece of my mind!  Of course, I really can't afford to give away pieces of my mind.  It's already crumbling as it is.

So tomorrow, or rather, today, I am going to start going through these boxes.  Since I can't lift them to carry them out to the garbage, I have to break it up anyway.  I might as well give at least a cursory exam to each box, just in case.  In case of what?  You might ask.  I don't know.  Like I said, historical value?  Probably not, but since my father thought they were important, I feel it's the least I can do.  I should take a flashlight and check to make sure there's nothing else hiding back there.

The scrubbing of the floor and walls will have to wait a couple of days.  I'm just devastated about that--NOT!  My knee joints and my Gluteus Maximus are grateful for the reprieve.