GLEAN-CLEAN-DREAM

 Jasmine

Gleaned some pruned branches from a midnight walk around Gramercy Park. they were bundled curbside ready for the morning trash collection.  There are two big bushes on the North side whose scent is that delicate clean-sweet, like privet-hedge in bloom.  Here they are on top of the bath shelves with mothers figurine, a bottle of cologne left from a departed neighbor, and backed by my friend Eddies painting.  They shed like crazy but I don't care, and sometimes I get a few to root. 

Now that I can see brighter from one eye, I've been cleaning everything.  The front window screen was installed with the new windows at least a decade ago.  I don't know how to take it out to clean.  I ran my fingers over it.  Oh--ugh...that's NYC greasy exhaust filth!  I intend to beg the Super to help me get them all out, and to 'please' let me take them down to his alley and use the hose.  They just MUST be cleaned.  Then I'll tackle some windows that have not been washed for at least a year.  It's a big task and one my energy simply could not stretch to.  An old gal needs help.  Unfortunately, I'm in no position to pay for help.  I can only ask, and be grateful to those who respond.  

 Meanwhile, every little thing I can do, I'm doing.  I use Dr. Bronners 'Sal-Suds'.  It's cheap, concentrated, non toxic, biodegradable, and goes a long way.  A bucket like this only needs a little in the water to be effective.

 Jeez!  Can you believe the yuck on this keyboard?  Tricky.  Disconnect it and use a careful just-damp rag.  Wish I could take it apart, but don't dare.

I'm reading big print books.  It's just easier.  David Randall is a journalist telling stories about special quirks of various folks sleep problems, and each is also about sleep research--entertaining and informative.

"Sleep isn't a break from our lives.  It is the missing third of the puzzle of what it means to be living."