My physical address book is a mess. Names are wiped out, addresses inked over, sometimes illegibly. Multiple entries exist when someone married or remarried, or when I documented a family member of a friend in two places. So, I thought about rewriting the book since I’m running out of space in a couple of designated “letters.”
Then I mused, ”How many people will I actually be adding in here in the future?” Now the contacts often go in my phone when someone transfers their information. And, if I rewrite, I will actually miss reading some of the old addresses and apartment numbers, names, people! It’s kind of fun to see how many places some people have called home in the past 20 years.
So, instead of rewriting the address book, I hauled my husband outside to revisit history with every door in our house and garage. We had a situation compatible with the address book; the key rack. We had collected old keys with homes long gone. Once again – a little trip down memory lane, except we hadn’t marked the keys and there was little memory of where they went!
This pandemic had better end soon, or I’ll be tackling the garage next. Danger, danger, danger!