Trash and Treasure

Tomorrow, the 'boss' from Milwaukee comes to check our progress at Leo's. Actually, she's my Aunt Julie, 80 year old cancer survivor, who got 'stuck' as the administrator of the estate. But my mom and Allen, the sweet neighbor farmer who is helping us clear junk, think she's the boss. They told me so. ("Jill, get ready for the "boss," she's coming tomorrow.") This gets under my skin just a bit as I think I'm pretty much in charge of all of it and could not only kick Aunt Julie, but also the attorney, out of the picture. I'm really quite an expert estate clearer.

I took items to the Gun and Loan for quotes (one gun is very valuable, so if you're a gun collector, let me know--I think we are talking around 7 grand)...guns, power tools, two concertinas (necessary for Polka music). Then I arranged with three charities to take Cleo's meat. None of us can eat Cleo, she was such a pathetic crooked necked cow who became a pet. But at least those poor familes will enjoy her.

I also had the minister come over and I gave him two boxes of bibles dating back all the way to 1880's, tons of old church bulletins, magazines, Portals of Prayer (which mom always has a stock of by her toilet) dating back to 1950's, and some church bulletins in German from the late 1800s. He also got a couple boxes of Cleo's meat. He was thrilled with the treasures.

As I was cleaning today (I have to move every piece of furniture as rooms are cleared and sweep and mop under each (OCD, perhaps?)), I found an old plastic wallet from Leo's dad. It had $305 cash in it. I felt like I had won the lottery! Then I realized that $305 is what some people pay for a bottle of wine. Not a big deal. But, when you've hung out in a house that is full of 100 years of dust and mice droppings and nests, you feel like you've struck oil. We hid it in the freezer with Cleo's packaged body. (If you W*** boys are reading this, don't even try to break in and steal it, I will personally come after you with a very expensive gun!)

At about 4:00, another of mom's cousins came by, his name is Marvin and he is all humped over and must be at least 80. The good thing is that he is also a collector of junk, so he took things that even Allen didn't want. It almost feels cruel to dump a trunk load of junk into the car of a man who is for the most part a cripple. How does he unload it all? Oh, well, he was rewarded with 5 pounds of Cleo.