Entering Hell

The view from the bottom of the stairs. 

Looking to my left.... 

....and to my right

It was time to face the basement.  I took a deep breath, braced myself, opened the basement door, descended the stairs and entered  hell.



Then I swore, ranted and raved, picked myself up and with the help of my kids and neighbor to do the lifting began the process of clearing out.







 We kept slogging away at it and slowly things began to look better. Though I do admit on more than one occasion, during moments of weakness, the solution of a gallon of gas and some matches crossed my mind.






It was the sheer amount of it!  The way it was all strewn together made me want to give up. Physically it was doing me in - even with the help.  I should explain.  I've had four back surgeries, three of them on my cervical spine and experience quite a few unpleasant symptoms with bending my neck or head. My lower back is better than it was, but it is a bit dicey and I need to be careful.   I couldn't keep up with the mess years ago, how was I supposed to do it now?  Damn it!  So, I ranted and raved and swore some more, then went to get the ice and hot packs and a glass of wine (anti-inflammatory properties, you know).