Today is my parents’ wedding anniversary. They were married in 1948, 77 years ago. In August, it will be 45 years since I was married. Two weeks from now, it will be 15 years since David died. And two days after that, I will have known Ed for 3 years.

Timing is not everything, but it is something.

Julia is on a respite weekend, and so, the house, with just Ed and I waking up, is quiet. I slip out of bed, pour some ice coffee previously made, grab my bed shawl (the one Cindy made for me), and open the laptop.

I make lists all the time. Impossible lists of tasks related to everything from researching supported housing for Julia’s future to finding a literary agent to trying a new salad dressing. It is a long list.

Before the beginning of summer, I felt that my plate was too full—too many tasks on my lists. The very list meant to facilitate action was paralyzing me.  And so, I simplified—trying for a summer of 5 goals which grew into 7 and sprouted to 11, still less than the list I usually answer to. Am I too old for a truly simplified summer?

Perhaps.

This weekend, I got to one thing!  Painting the old china cabinet.

This apartment that I live in does not have enough storage. Not the worst storage I’ve lived with, but far from the best. To supplement what I have, just a bit, I kept the offered china cabinet that was in this apartment before I moved in.  My landlord told me it belonged to his mother, and I accepted that; however, since he is younger than I am, I expect his mother was younger than mine. This china cabinet was certainly not my mother’s style, much more like the one of my paternal grandmother owned.  And I vaguely remember that my maternal grandmother had one as well. From this I conclude that the cabinet probably belonged to a grandmother or great aunt and passed down to my landlord’s mother. I will have to ask him.

The cabinet is from the turn of the last century, made sometime before the 1930’s. It is near 5 feet tall, made of dark red wood. It is plain and sensible, with a glass door in the center. The door is closed and locked with a little key that also served as a knob.  It was the same with my grandmother’s.  Alas, the key is lost. I keep the door closed with a thin piece of cardboard shimmed into the space between the door and frame. My grandmother’s cabinet lost its key a few times during my early childhood, usually found on the floor under the edge of the carpet.  Once that key was found in the vacuum cleaner bag when it was emptied, and once my bother took it upstairs into our shared bedroom.  

I have thought all these thoughts, remembered all these rememberings as I have painted this weekend. From dark red wood, the cabinet will be a grey-green on the outside and a creamy white inside. The second coat of the outside is drying right now.  Soon, I’ll rip off the masking tape, touch up what I have missed, perhaps add some highlights (although I’m not sure about that), and wait a few days for it to dry. Then I’ll wax it, and it will be finished.

And I will have finished one of my summer tasks and check it off my simplified summer tasks list. It is very good to have a listed item that has the real good possibility of completion.