Pragmatist
Pragmatist

The organ is gone. She is going to be groomed for an evangelical-gospel church, and she's gonna rock! This guy buys organs and remodels, rebuilds, refurbishes them and then sells them to churches, rock groups, other musicians, and such individuals as wants organs. I told him, before I agreed to sell, that I wanted my Hammond to go to a church, and that I had been looking for a small church to donate it to. He promised me, and he said he'd tell me which church got it, so I could go hear it with it's new Leslie speaker.

My back is still cranky. Downright ornery, as a matter of fact. But I keep feeding myself 1,000 mgs of acetaminophen, and we get along pretty well. Unless I step, turn, move the wrong way.

I was getting in my car at the grocery store this evening, and let out a moan. I didn't think I was that loud, but a guy two cars away got out and came running over to see if I needed help.  I told him, No. I just moved wrong.

The dining table and two chairs are now in the corner formerly occupied by the Hammond organ. Looks pretty nice. When Gryffan gets around to moving his pc monitor that's sitting on a wooden chair, I will move that chair, and bring the other two dining chairs to sit around the table.

The organ was moved in when I moved in here ten years ago. I don't want any of you Mrs Cleans to have a heart attack, but that organ hadn't been moved an inch in those ten years. I think I must have blanched when I saw what was on the floor that would have to be cleaned before the table could be moved in.

The kitchen-dining area is still a mess, but progress is being made.  Really.  I keep telling myself.  But oh! those curtains really-really need to be laundered.

Oh, phooey on the whole thing.  I'm going to bed!!!


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