I’m not getting any younger and I should know better than to work my buns off for five hours without a break.  My back is so sore today I can hardly move.  My legs and arms aren’t in the greatest of shape now either.

     We worked upstairs for three hours sorting through two rooms; we barely put a dent in the stuff there.  Then we started on the downstairs freezer so we could turn it off along with the other major appliances.

     Most of the pain stems from cleaning years of frozen food out of a chest freezer the size of Alaska.  Hell, you can hide a dozen bodies in the darned thing.  G and I couldn’t believe the dates (Some items dated back to 1986.) on the packages of WTF are they that we pulled out from the bottom.  (We thought we’d never reach it.)  “Hold my feet G; I’m going for the stuff on the bottom!”  

     I don’t think my MIL cleaned out her freezer…ever.  The most heartbreaking thing we pulled out of there were a dozen filet mignons of undeterminable age.  Crikeys!  We both groaned as we bagged them for garbage collection.  Steaks, we were throwing away steaks!

     It took two hours to clear the freezer of primordial remnants of food.  We had two refrigerators their freezers and one small freezer upstairs to go.  Thank goodness, they didn’t have a ton of food in them.  We’d almost hit the limit of ten garbage bags as it was.  The tiny chest freezer upstairs had fresh food in it that I told G to take.  I know her sons’ families can use the extra in these hard times.