Celebrated Juneteenth here at The Asylum by making the staff come to work. A good band came and entertained us old white people. And we are having a “Special Juneteenth Dinner” with Swedish Meatballs and South African wines. That doesn’t track. How ’bout barbecue, fried chicken, mac and cheese? Red beans and rice. Fried catfish. Oh, they are also having collard greens. And the joint wonders why black people don’t move in. Swedish Meatballs? Honestly. Maybe they could add Lutefisk next summer.
Made some death-cleaning progress today. Quantity not huge. But, every little bit helps. This was a hard little bit. Old notebooks from the times Carlton and I spent in the parks. And notebooks from various trips. I put some special treasures in a shoe box and labeled it: When I am gone, Toss. I could have put everything in a big box labeled When I am gone, Toss. But, that seems to be cheating.
This death-cleaning thing isn’t morbid or even grim. One just wants things to be as tidy as possible when the inevitable happens. If someone is just going to pitch it: Why not save them the trouble? It’s the right thing to do.