I went back to my mom’s house today, with a van, to pick up some large items that I couldn’t pick up last weekend: A dresser, a bookcase, and a sink. Yes, a sink. It’s an old Craftsman, steel sink with built-in drawers and cupboards.

My parents bought it new in 1968 to use as a shop sink in the garage. I had to have it. It was a fixture of my childhood, as were the bookcase and dresser, and I just couldn’t let them be discarded. I know the uppity white bitch that bought the house would have told her husband that the sink was disgusting, and made him drag it out to the curb for the metal scrappers. I couldn’t let that happen, plus, I have plans for it. (Also, I have no idea who bought the house.)

I don’t know what I’m going to do with the dresser and bookcase, though. Suddenly, I’m lousy with furniture. I’d like to refinish the dresser, but looking at the dresser I brought home this weekend, I was reminded of how much I hate finishing wood and how bad I am at it. Little difference it makes, anyway, because I’m not going to sell either piece, so I’ll have to find a place for them one way or another. 🤷‍♂️

So ends another day of filling the void.