A Fresh Start. Literally.
Beauty is subjective … this is one of the most beautiful sites I’ve seen in a while.
Bare with me … yes, this is a photo of my fridge.
But it’s empty. Completely empty. Even clean! It’s a fresh start in so many ways. I opened the door and wasn’t sure what I’d see, but I didn’t expect empty. I smiled.
I don’t think I’ve seen this since the day we moved in.
On our way home today we listened to most of, “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.” I’m ready for some life-changing magic. Marie Kondo is a slave driver, she’s brutal, she’s oh so serious. Wow. Folding socks 2 times or maybe even 4 or 6 times if they’re knee-high socks. She’s intimidating. Forget marine corps drill sergeants, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
But hey, we’ve pretty much stalled out on other house decluttering projects, so I’m up for anything–militaristic or not.
But to come home to our house and an empty fridge. Not even mustard or a deformed sludge of butter. No horseradish (what IS that stuff, anyway?), no only-a-spoonful-left of strawberry jam, no pearl onions. When are you supposed to eat pearl onions anyway? No wonder they’re always there. Maybe then even come with new refrigerators.
Summer is over. School is starting. It’s no longer a choice for a Fresh Start on life, it’s a calling. I don’t have a choice any longer–and I’m thankful for that. Because I’m ready.
An empty fridge. The oddest but most welcoming welcome home present I could ask for. Here we go!
You had me chuckling out the gate with “bare with me”. Haha. Nicely done.