Feels-Like-Winter-Thursday Rambly Bits

[gnomi]

-- Winter-qua-winter is still a good month off, but today definitely feels like winter. Daytime highs in the mid-30s F, a good stiff wind making it feel like it's 8 degrees outside. Time to dig out the leggings, I do believe.

-- Introducing people who know each other: magid, re-meet autotruezone.

-- mabfan has Town Meeting this week, so I'm fending for myself most evenings. I've gotten random stuff done and writing (just a tad; I desperately need to do more) done, but mostly I have been knitting. And last night I spent a lovely chunk of time with lucretia_borgia.

-- I've been doing a Fawn Hall on a whole slew of old paperwork that we'd just never gotten around to getting rid of. Tell me, do I really need seven years ago's tracking forms of freelance projects that are now long over? I say no, so into the shredder they go.

-- For those of you in the general Brookline-Brighton-Allston area who may not have heard, the Barnes and Noble in Coolidge Corner is leaving. I see this as a complication, not only because we'll be down one bookstore but also because the B&N and Brookline Booksmith have developed something of a symbiotic relationship, with the Booksmith carrying more of the small press and indy press stuff and the B&N carrying the more mainstream stuff that Booksmith doesn't have shelf space for.

Comments

[aunt-becca.livejournal.com]

when I was doing my Fawn Hall impression this summer ad shredding everything in sight, I found old bank statements in the trunk of my car for a bank which no longer exists! Why did I feel compelled to hold on to them?

[gnomi.livejournal.com]

One of the things I found was checks from an account I had at a bank that no longer exists.

I shredded them anyway.

[fauxklore]

When I cleaned out the downstairs closet a few years after my father died, I found checks dating back roughly 30 years, including one to the doctor from when I was born.

I had quite an argument with my mother when I insisted there was no reason to keep them. Nowadays, when I visit, I just surreptitiously shred things early in the morning before she wakes up.

[gnomi.livejournal.com]

I've been having an internal debate about some of the items, but mostly I'm going with the "do I *really* need this?" rubric.

[caryabend.livejournal.com]

The genealogist in me says, "You shredded WHAT?" The pack rat chimes in with, "You shredded?" The lazy procrastinator (also known as the frightened perfectionist) just tucks tighter and whimpers.

:)

Disclosure: I think I have a box mostly filled with junk mail that I have now moved twice without unpacking. The first move was 15 years ago. Please help. :)

[fauxklore]

Of what possible genealogical value are Con Ed bills from the 1950's? I didn't shred personal essays my father had written in college (or his transcript) or the synagogue newsletter he edited for a while or stuff like that. And I haven't let Mom throw out old photographs.

I admit that it's easier for me to go through stuff at my mother's house than at my own. I still haven't finished sorting out the "box of shame," where I stash the junk mail I don't immediately toss or shred (e.g. mail order catalogues, newsletters, etc.)