As my fine friend Luke says, we're clearing out the same number of boxes each week, but they're a greater percentage of what's left. Something five cardboard and two plastic containers were relased from storage unit custody yesterday, leaving us with, more of less 20 boxes, a couple of shelving units, a what appears to be (oh please) an empty four-drawer file cabinet. (Yours for the right price of "please come get it").

I still sustain an emotional whammy doing this. It's not just my stuff, it is often our stuff. And then there is just Stu's stuff which still gets to me, over and beyond. Late last night, around midnight, I finally felt like I wanted to accomplish something. I chose a box that had last been looked at two years ago. Both Luke and I looked and saw what was going to be an easy job: file folders, probably full of stuff no longer needed or useful. And so it would be quick, even if it still meant going page by page, paper by paper because Stu's stuff got in everywhere. Some of it art, some of it "other".

So the box contained what, maybe 12 or 15 file folders, mostly buff, one green (which I knew contained many of my old medical file). And my high school and college yearbooks. Other than that, it required sorting page by page. The contents helped protect an obviously endangered species of dust creature which seemed to thrive in their environment. Starter dust bunnies? A completly new dust creature?

Found: of my "ohboyohboy"stuff, three programs from musicals I was involved with during my high school year, (and one year of college when I was a work-study student, working the summer at the local YWCA, which put on fantastic summer theater. Nostalgia, sadness, looking back and wondering, and occasional finding the right name. Finding the name of one friend who played Oliver (hey,Suzy) and at least one who died far too young. Some amazingly talented folks. Somewhere I have slides to match. Findking the name of one of my very best guy friends ever.

But then the file folders. Yes, there was financial dribble in there, copies of questionnaires,letters, forms, announcements, endless paperwork from Social Security and DSHS. Mostly about me, mostly about 20 years ago. Then the fun started.

Artwork, drawings, sketches, originals. Duplicates of drawings Stu'd made many copies of and originals where the blue pencil still shows. A sheet of the best bookmarks ever, that were designed for the 1994 Bouchercon. Original artwork for Sherlockian gigs, drawings for a friend's baby shower, for the tee-shirt that featured the marching dimes. Order forms for his tee shirts. artwork artwork artwork Articles articles articles. Many Sherlockian articles and sketches (written and inked), and far too many pages of reference materials from the net. A copy of a couple of his columns on toys. Then his passport, cancelled 1996. A state ID "not a driver's license". Mammoths and elephants, Victorian ladies and gents, Sherlock and John. badgers and hamsters and otters, oh my. A bunch of articles on Zetz Tummelman, hero to those who have heard of him and the "Celluloid Fantasia" series. A real find.

Longingsweet.