‘You have an Author file?’ said Daughter. Of course I do. But it’s not as voluminous, or as important, as it once was, back in my more fledgling Bookwitch days.
It rained heavily yesterday. Even the Resident IT Consultant was prepared for a wet day, possibly – horror of horrors – spent indoors. I quickly replanned the expected chores for the day and embraced the project I’d been putting off and putting off; the decluttering of the filing cabinet. I’d got far enough in the thinking about it, to decide that with three of us, two could look and chuck, and the other could ferry and shred.
It mostly worked.
It was a Very Long Day. And Daughter didn’t enjoy it, but she said it felt good that the task had got done.
Unfortunately it killed off Daughter’s beloved shredder, so I now owe her a new one. Luckily there was also a parental shredder, which had to be pressed into service. It survived. As did we. I realise it sounds like you might use it to shred parents.
But there is a certain entertainment value in sharing one’s old school reports and class photos. And Daughter found her brother’s letter to me, asking for a raise in pocket money, absolutely hilarious. I can’t recall if he was successful.
By the end of the day I could barely think, feeling as though I had been through the shredder myself. Luckily there was previously frozen soup for sustenance. And pudding.