Cans

Once upon a time, Uncle Eugene gave us cans for selling in Michigan.

Yes. This happened. Two years ago.

They've been sitting downstairs for that whole period, gathering dust and not really going anywhere; doing nothing but taking up space.

No more. As of today, all 400(ish) of the stupid things are in a box, crushed to death.

This took several hours of effort, mostly on my sister's parts but some of it on mine. The boxes have to be burned tonight so that he can't rescue them from the barrel.

There's also the ongoing project around the camper (Shh!) where things like wood and briefcases and tape boxes and all the stuff he's piled there are vanishing into the fire. Slowly. If I did it all at once he'd notice. Little by little is harder to track. Eventually he'll realize but by then it'll be too damn late to salvage all that stuff.

The war is on again.

Ta,
Bec