Rome wasn't unbuilt in a day

They say moving into a new house is difficult. It can't be any harder than moving out of an old house. I'm talking about the blood, sweat and even more blood. I'd get into the tears, but that's a little personal. Maybe at a later date after I've gone to Costco and loaded up on Kleenex.

For now let's just consider the enormous amount of detritus one can acquire over the course of 7 decades. Particularly when one also has two grown daughters who can't bear to part with old dolls, toys, books, and an enormous quantity of crap that has now been slathered in 3-4 layers of dust.

Readers who continue to follow this blog -- for reasons undetermined -- may remember my exhilarating stories of moving Uncle CrankyPants from his home in Palm Springs to his dirty nursing home in Cheviot Hills. It literally took us a dozen or so trips, often back and forth in same day, to put a dent in the trove -- sans treasure -- of stuff he had collected over many years in the sweltering desert.

When the rest of the world was going remote and digital Uncle Angry Letter Writer started piling up reams of copy paper. Floor to ceiling. I didn't want to throw it out so I kept about 200 lbs. worth of paper. I never got through one ream as I had long ago taken my fiery temper out on my Canon MX 490 a la Office Space.

https://youtu.be/N9wsjroVlu8?si=fSnZ3-x6agBdXvLj

And so, upon finding out my cleaning lady's son was in high school, I sent her home with a trunkful of Xerox's finest. The back of her Toyota Camry almost bottomed out leaving my driveway.

The digging, the tossing, the packing and the donating to willing charities, is reaching a feverish pitch.

There have been some interesting (well, interesting to me) finds amongst the nook and crannies of my Culver City home. 33 years in one house will do that. 

* Old Mother's Day cards to Marilyn, my late mother in Law. She had a great sense of humor so I'd go out of my way to find the oddest Hallmark had to offer. The overly religious cards. The cat lady cards (she hated cats). And Mother's Day cards from all the assorted ethicities easily found in Los Angeles.

* A box of goodies from Debbie's bachelorette party. Some of those naughty knack knacks still had a price tag on them.

* Blue prints. Not only from our 1997 remodel but the original blueprints, on blue paper, from when the house was built in 1947.

* A hand written note from my daughter Rachel, who I'm guessing was no more than 6 years old here.

And of course photos. Some of you might not know this but before the intranets, we took pictures and had them developed and printed. I have thousands of undigitized 4X6 photos. On film paper. Many make me smile, some have a different effect. As I was securing them in a box, one slipped out to the floor.

That's Deb on the left and her life long friend Lori (who passed shortly after Deb did) while dining at Joe Allen's (I believe) on Robertson. I believe they thought they were being clever, because if you look behind them you'll see Kelsey Grammar and his ex-wife, Camille.

That was no accident. You'll have to trust me on that.