I'm forced to seclusion. My allergies overpowering.  My air conditioned bedroom; my reprieve. Haying, lawn mowing, beautiful blossoms; all causing me discomfort.  So, I head to my bedroom.  On a gloriously sunny day.  I am forced to look at the clutter.  The piles of clothes.  The boxes of paper.  Most of it needing to go.  I begin the process.  Cards sent when our world shattered.  When our first born son was called to glory at 17.  When cancer threatened to take a good man down.  When the joy thief knocked ... View Post