Whenever company is expected, I "clean" the table by stuffing all the assorted mail and papers and whatever-else-I've-stashed-on-the-table into a big cardboard box which I then hide in Johnny's study, to be sorted later. Someday. Hopefully before the next round of company. I am currently two boxes behind. But now that's it's raining daily, I have time to sort.
So, naturally, I've found something else to do: compile my father's life story. Dad died over two years ago. For about the last eight years of his life, he and I each tried to write down his stories. I now have all those notes and writings and what not on a table in my office, along with photos from his house that I have not yet gone through. It was too sad to deal with these memories in the first year after his death. Or the second. Now I'm able to do it without too many tears.
Dad mostly wrote about his military career of which he was rightfully proud. I tried to get other stories out of him... about his childhood and about his courtship of Mom. I am so glad I did. Now I'm working on my brother, who is 5 years older than I, to tell me stories of our childhood that I don't remember. I remember little of those years. Heck, I remember little that happened yesterday, how could I remember 60 years ago? Bob does better. His memories tend to revolve around boat racing and fishing and hunting, interests he shared with Dad. My memories revolve around horses. Dad was a good horseman and supported my horse craziness.
Once I get all the stories together, my brother and I will add photos. Here's one I found awhile ago and scanned into the computer. Dad is a young airman in the Army Air Corps here, before it became the U.S. Air Force. This photo was probably taken sometime in the 1940's. Dad was born in 1918 and entered the service when he was 18.
This project promises to be a lot more fun than sorting "company boxes".