Deve is disgusted

6 Jul

  I reheat a piece of the frittata Mark made yesterday morning and eat it with a piece of sourdough bread that I’ve toasted and buttered. It’s 11:45 AM. In an hour, I’ll go to the club and swim. Then I’ll have a steam and a sauna. Then I’ll go to Mom’s place and check her mail and water her plants. Right now though, I’m going to go into what used to be the kids’ playroom – and before that, the dining room – and work some more on dismantling the piano. I’ve been dismantling the piano for several months now. I’m in the final stages. Last week, me and Deve took the harp to the scrap metal place and found out that they’ll give you five dollars for 136 pounds of metal. I had thought it would be more and had suggested as much to Deve. Deve had sat in the car when I went into the scrap metal place. When I came back out to the car and told him the guy only gave me five dollars, he was disgusted. “At least it paid for the gas to drive it over here,” I said. “Maybe,” he said. Mary concurred. “I don’t think five dollars would pay for the gas to get over to the scrap metal place,” she said that evening when Stephen told her about the five dollars. “Where is the scrap metal place, anyway?” she asked. This week I’ve been tearing apart the wooden cabinet the piano was housed in, trying to get the pieces of wood small enough to put into the garbage. If I can get everything down to four feet or less, I can bundle it up with twine and the garbage collector will pick it up. If it’s more than four feet, they won’t take it.

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