The cleanup continues...
Jan. 1st, 2008 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexpgpI can actually see about 50% of the surface of the desk to the right of my computer. The desk surface to the left remains under a geological layer of paper.
That's pretty good progress, given that I seem to still be fighting something that has moved from the back of my throat to my sinuses. It's not put me in bed, but it's noticeable.
As I continue to go through my parents' papers, I am amazed at the breadth of my mother's interests. She was an inveterate note-taker and filled many, many sheets with all sorts of summaries, not to mention language drills. I suspect that she was one of these people whose ability to learn and remember was reinforced by writing the information, which provided tactile feedback, and seeing it written, providing visual feedback. I say that because that's my preferred method of learning.
And as open a book as my mother's life was, I am equally amazed at the utter lack of information my dad left about himself, at least in the form of letters and photographs. What he did leave was evidence of... I don't know... things that interested him? A couple of shelves of dictionaries, most of them heavily used (one, to the point where the binding has fallen apart). A half dozen atlases. Four sound systems and close to a dozen various radios, tape players, and CD players. I'm not sure I can glean the man from such leavings, but there's no rush. The lawyer has put wheels in motion to elicit information hiding in various official nooks and crannies.
* * * Watched the Harry Potter film about the Order of the Phoenix last night, and understood fairly little of it, though there was something about the REMF in the pink dress that rang true. I rented the disk from a local redbox machine, using a free promo code. For tonight, I paid actual coin of the realm to rent Knocked Up (at Galina's request), and though there are a lot of lines that evoke adolescent laughter, I thought the film as a whole was a waste of time and stopped paying attention about 20 minutes into the thing.
* * * The "State of the Plate" is currently one small job, due tomorrow afternoon. Up high on the list of things to do is to deposit a bunch of client checks and open a local bank account, if Wells Fargo doesn't have an office anywhere within a reasonable hailing distance, preferably with a bank that has branches in Texas and Colorado (except BoA, which seems to breed customer dissatisfaction, at least among people I've spoken with).
Cheers...
That's pretty good progress, given that I seem to still be fighting something that has moved from the back of my throat to my sinuses. It's not put me in bed, but it's noticeable.
As I continue to go through my parents' papers, I am amazed at the breadth of my mother's interests. She was an inveterate note-taker and filled many, many sheets with all sorts of summaries, not to mention language drills. I suspect that she was one of these people whose ability to learn and remember was reinforced by writing the information, which provided tactile feedback, and seeing it written, providing visual feedback. I say that because that's my preferred method of learning.
And as open a book as my mother's life was, I am equally amazed at the utter lack of information my dad left about himself, at least in the form of letters and photographs. What he did leave was evidence of... I don't know... things that interested him? A couple of shelves of dictionaries, most of them heavily used (one, to the point where the binding has fallen apart). A half dozen atlases. Four sound systems and close to a dozen various radios, tape players, and CD players. I'm not sure I can glean the man from such leavings, but there's no rush. The lawyer has put wheels in motion to elicit information hiding in various official nooks and crannies.
Cheers...
