It's so incredibly hot and steamy down here. Y'all know I don't function well in this type of weather. This is the season of the year when I feel like I'm on one of those survival shows- just trying to live to see another day. I certainly can't say that I've been productive even in the least. These oppressive conditions just aren't conducive to a very zealous work ethic. The only thing I can really point to as having achieved, this summer, is playing the part of the farmer's wife. 45 bags of peas, 20 bags of butter beans, and 11 gallons of blueberries have been put in the freezer. Davis and I are almost like the pilgrims except for the belt buckles and, well, the part about having a freezer.

One thing that I usually do in the slow summer months is go from room to room and cleanse my closets and drawers of unnecessary clutter. I have absolutely no patience for clutter and, each year, while my work is at its slowest, I try to purge and organize our house. I've not even done the greatest job at that, this summer. I started in the laundry room, three weeks ago, and then it just stalled out there. I lost interest in moving onto another room.

Well, last night, Carson was gone and Davis was busy working, so I decided I'd get in our master bathroom and clean out the closet, drawers, and cabinets in there. You know how things just accumulate over time? Well, I worked my way through the vanity for a while and then I moved to the bathroom closet, which houses all manner of things. Not just towels and such, but our toiletry surplus and over the counter meds and first aid type stuff. I filled up a whole garbage bag of expired stuff and dried up stuff and no longer needed stuff. Among other things, there were some hair product containers that were as good as empty, a few bottles of gummed-up nail polish, and some Benadryl that expired about the same time Bin Laden did. I got rid of all that and organized the closet to almost a Dewey Decimal System level. Walgreen's should be so organized. 

In the very back of the closet was even a box of enemas prescribed as part of a pre-op prep, a while back. I remember the store was out of singles and only had the multi-pack in stock, so I had to get the party-size box of enemas even though I only needed one. (Here is where I want to apologize to my mother for the repeated use of the word, enema, on the world wide web.) Anyway, I hadn't needed the remaining ones in the box up to this point and didn't see the need for them arising anytime soon, so, not knowing any charities that accepted enema donations, I chunked them all in the garbage bag with the rest of the refuse. The bag was getting quite full, at this point, and I called Davis to take the bag outside to our big trash can.    

This morning, I'd overslept and was running late for a nail appointment. I hurriedly got ready, ran out the door, hopped in the car, and started down the driveway. That's when I saw Ruby and her friend, Izzy, frolicking in the yard. Somehow, they'd gotten the corner of the trash bag, which was hanging out of our overflowing garbage can, and there Ruby was. Running and playing. The big FLEET box clinched between her teeth as if she was taunting me. She'd littered the grass with all of the enema bottles. The whole family pack. Looked like the aftermath of a wild night of binge....whatever. Oh, and to make us really look like a bunch of sick freaks, she'd strewn the discarded black latex gloves that came with my self tanning kit everywhere. Enemas and latex gloves are just what you'd want the family dog tossing and hurling around your front yard, while you're inside oversleeping.

So, as late as I was for my manicure appointment, I wasn't so late that I couldn't stop to gather up the proctological items and their packaging from the lawn and, while I was at it, the "guilty by association" latex gloves. I'm certain there's been some trash talking on the street today. I'm sure the neighborhood parents have instructed their children to stay away from our house by now. We'll likely have no more trick or treaters or girl scouts coming by to sell cookies. There's a home owner's association meeting tomorrow night. I'm sending Davis.   

The lesson of today's story is not one of a theological or moral basis, but more of a practical one. If one tries to dispose of items, which might be of some embarrassment to oneself, one should do so with extreme care. And if one has two or more unrelated items to dispose of, which might look even worse together than they already do independently, then, by all means, one should dispose of them in separate receptacles. If you take away nothing more from this post, today, at least, take that.
My friend, Jean, and I are leaving for Atlanta market on Thursday and will be back early next week.

We'll talk then!

JONI