Pay no mind to the rusted handle bars . . . everything rusts here and plus, I'm pretty sure my dad found this bike on the side of the road . . . and yet, it's the bike everyone fights over. Oy. My mama is feeling sick and sad. It turns out, I feel very sad when my mama is sad. Especially when she's feeling bad. Today was literally 900 hours long. I didn't want to leave her alone, so my errands to grab stuff to finish a lot of organizing didn't happen, but even so . . . I got a lot accomplished. Her linen closet got an overhaul (good bye old towels and rags and aprons and everything frayed) and organized. My dad has taken over the dining room table as his study (which as I'm decluttering I've discovered is also a repository for my mothers stuff as well) so I'm working on that and the big credenza in her living room that's filled with old dishes and odds and ends. Honestly, I think she won't recognize her house when I'm done. ...