Boxing Days

 I am culling.  There are dozens of boxes in the garage that are holding things that I decided to save, but didn't need in the house anymore.  When my mother died, I was positively overwhelmed with how much stuff there was to go through.  I don't want my children to go through that, so packing up when I can seemed a good thing to do. 

Now, though, I'm sorting through those to decrease their number, and there are boxes EVERYWHERE here.  Boxes that have been emptied, boxes that are partially filled with things to keep, boxes for things to be donated (each place has its own box), boxes of things that might be sellable, boxes that may wind up being broken down but won't be because I might need them yet.  The house is an absolute war zone right now, but I am finding good stuff.

Me with BF and erstwhile roommate Lisa, when she came in for a weekend.

This also provides proof that my hair was once not white.

My two Britons confabbing over pizza.

Hannah's senior portrait session included Rupert:

Over and over I've marveled at how photogenic she has always been, but props to Rupert, too.