The same day as the woodchuck in my house
That very same day of the woodchuck (Marmota monax) crisis, Dianita came over to help me get organized in the house, so Dianita was in on some of the police visits. She definitely observed the gun demonstrations.
Dianita helped me with the house tremendously. She “made” me put into the office clothes closet exclusively what I am taking with me. This, of course, meant removing from the closet everything I’m not taking with me. We did it — with the exception of a few undecideds.
And so we dropped off a bunch of clothes to a new consignment shop in town called Chicadee. It does feel good when stuff gets out. And we also had a few items to drop off at My Lucky Day.
This, of course, however, left a bunch of boxes in my office that I must go through. Office supplies. Papers I have to decide on. It’s hard. I wonder if I have ADD. I start going through a box, and I’m good for about thirty seconds until it comes over me that I have to do something else. Would that I could decide so easily what to keep and what to give away. Does the world depend upon what I keep and what I give away? Apparently.
Dianita also gave me some easier assignments.
Up in the loft, I have some children’s books that I promised years ago to send to Kirt who has three young children — you remember Kirt who put up the ebooks and did so many helpful caring things for Heaven — well, I am going to box those books and mail them to him. And I am going to do that as soon as I finish writing this blog entry. I really am. I mean it.
Then I have boxes and boxes of books saved for Santhan. These are spiritual books that are out of print and/or very expensive. I would like Heaven Admin to go through them to see what he wants for the spiritual center. Look, all I have to do with those boxes — there are many — is to slide them into the big attic-type closet up there. That’s all I have to do, and how long have I walked past those boxes and thought that all I have to do is to slide them into the closet, and how many times have I not done it? At least twice a day.
Then I have huge baskets of clothes up there to make decisions about. I must confess that by and large those clothes have to be give-aways. They have been sitting there waiting to be ironed or mended or something done with them for longer than I care to admit.
Robert Burns said: “Gie me the gift to see myself as others see me.” That is no gift at all. That is a horrific event. And I am experiencing it.
Anyway, after I do even one of these things, even a part of one of these things, then I am to send Dianita an email saying so, and I will feel like I am on top of things and blush at all the praise she will give me. I believe this is called behavior modification, and, by golly, I think it works. Thanks, Dianita.
P.S. Update on Chucky/Henry who could be Chuckelle or Henrietta. He does not go into the live-trap. He will be quiet for long periods of time, and I like to think that he has somehow gotten out. Then there is a ruckus, I see him, my heart beats fast, and I flee to Lauren’s apartment. I spend the nights there for sure.
The live trap somehow closed without Chucky in it. It’s possible I knocked into it, and that’s what happened. Beloved Officer Simpson (Rusty) called me! And he came and reset the live trap for me and told me to call him as soon as the woodchuck walks into it — to call him day or night. Now c’mon, is this a policeman or an angel, I ask you.
I have left one of my living-room windows open sans screen, the same window that Chucky knocked the screen out of and got in through. I think Chucky wants to get out as much as I want him to, and then life will resume its peaceful quality, and I will really appreciate what it is to have my house to myself.
Godwriting is a blog by Gloria Wendroff and is about Gloria's daily life as the Godwriter of the Heavenletters project that is having a profound effect on the lives of people around the world.
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