There's something comforting about cleaning up, putting things in their places, crossing tasks off a list. An order and a rightness to the day: plants watered, recycleables packed up, dishes loaded in the dishwasher, all the CDs I've been randoming choosing all week neatly slotted back into their alphabetical holes. There's something stuck in the hose of the vacuum cleaner and I can't reach past the bend to push it further or pull it out. I'll have to unkink a wire hanger later and see if that is long enough to help.
After lunch I fill the trunk with junk: 2 big bags of paper, a bag of cartons & packaging, a small bag of tin cans and metal, and one of hard plastic: shampoo and ketchup bottles, kinder egg halves. 2 more bags of returnable bottles and cans fill in the last gap. The recycling center is my 2nd stop, first I'm braving IKEA on a sunny Sunday after payday. Madness! Since I know exactly what I want and where it is, I can cut to the chase. The line of cars going into and out of the parking lot is slow and serpentine. I find a spot rather quickly though and am in and out of the store in less than half the time it will subsequently take me to get OUT of the parking lot again.
I think about swinging by and picking up sushi for the family for dinner, since I know the kids will be thrilled, but I don't know what time they'll be home tonight, so after a few minutes of hemming and hawing I decide against it. The drive to Södra Sandby is quick and it makes me feel good to dump all the recycling in the proper containers. I feel guilty that it's taken me so long to get this going, but I am proud of myself for finally getting off my duff and doing it. It's meant a serious rearrangement of our laundry room to set up bins for recycling in a way that keeps things tidy.
Afterwards, it's a short trip down the hill to the grocery store where I stock up on family staples, milk, fruit and veggies for salad. I think again about the email I want to write to ICA asking them why they stopped stocking the salad fixings. Those little containers of pine nuts, pistachios, parmesan, croutons and sun-dried tomatos were awesome and it's made my salad-eating habits very sad and bland to not have them available anymore.
Home again where I quickly put the groceries away and then tie on my walking shoes and head out into the sunshine. It's cold and invigorating and the sun sparkles off the whole world. In the afternoon I work on some projects, listen to music, and read. Karin calls on Anders' cell phone: they're in Småland, still about 3 hours or so away. Anders thinks they'll be home around 7 so I ask what they want for dinner and after apologizing for not having gone ahead and gotten the sushi they inevitably ask for, they settle for salmon, which I promise to have ready.
The last hour of my week of solitude is really spent wishing they'd hurry up and get here already, even though ostensibly I'm reading my book.
Then they ARE home and it's all unpacking and chatter and laundry and stories about their week and showing off their new tshirts with photos of their ski/snowboard school comrades and checking out the pictures that Anders took. They had fun and both the kids look taller to me somehow.
Now they're in bed, and Anders is relaxing, after that long day of driving, and everything is put away or piled in the laundry room for washing.
Tomorrow is school and work and, for me an evening meeting; for Karin, karate. Homework and after-school friends and dinner on the table. They're back home and we're back to normal.
Really Neat & Well-Done: HEMA's product page (give it a second to load and start)