Small Victories
Tuesday morning I took Truck to town. It was one of those do-it-now impulses that I am prone to, and I reasoned that 9am on a weekday morning would probably give me the least amount of traffic to contend with. (Not that there's much traffic out here at any time. If I pass three cars on that road it rates as rush hour.) There are some curves on the winding road down into town that I don't even like in the Toyota, since they don't have a shoulder and there is a steep drop on the outside. However, I reminded myself that Truck is only six inches wider than the Toy, and off I went. No problem. I drove to town, turned around in the museum parking lot, and came back--for a total round trip excursion of twelve miles. Now I feel a lot more relaxed about driving the thing.

This morning I bagged Chuck's three-piece suits for the trash. He worked for IBM for 17 years and I worked for Xerox for 18. When we moved up here, we both brought along our suits, and I packed my high heels as well. Naturally we never wore any of it, but who was to know? My suits are still in boxes in storage, somewhere, but his suits were hanging in the closet covered with a film of dust. They were beautiful wool suits, and Chuck got them from a Hong Kong clothier who was recommended to him by another IBMer. We called the guy Hong Kong Harry. He came to the Los Angeles area every six months or so and took a motel room. Customers came into have their measurements taken, selected what fabric they wanted, and handed over a check. About a month later some absolutely gorgeous wool suits showed up in the mail.

I kept putting off doing anything with the suits, telling myself that I could offer them to the local Little Theatre group, or maybe recycle the cloth. Some women do that; cut their husband's old clothes up into largish squares and sew them together into comforters. I finally faced the fact that I was never going to do either of those things, so away they go. It has only taken me nine months.