In Canada you only have to keep you tax records for six years. (used to be seven) So as we approached this years deadline out came the tax receipt boxes from under the bed to be dusted off and opened up and contents perused.
I do feel sorry for the boxes, only allowed out once a year, but we scrutinise them (and their contents) with terrifying intensity over a very short period of time, so perhaps they’re not so hardly-done-by. They then returned from whence they came to rest and recover until next year.
Having realised the wondrous six-year record keeping limit, my shredding for this year was doubled.
Remember who was sharing the cupboard with my sewing machine? When I hauled it out and told it the ‘good news’ it promptly fainted.
After a restorative thimble of oil it rose to the task admirably, and yesterday Mrs Widds took several well-stuffed bags of shreddings to the recyclers.
… and the paper shredder too, went back into its designated domicile to rest and recover, clutching its ‘restorative’ oil to its breast.
Here’s another treat by Khatia. This time it’s Grieg’s Piano concerto … with one of the best opening musical phrases … right up there with the opening fanfare of Star Wars.
I love how she throws the rest of the orchestra a smile every now and then as though to say, “This is so cool that we’re all making this magnificent sound together.” – which might be me projecting, but hey, if we really thought about how much of our ‘communication’ is actually projection and ‘educated guesses’ we’d fall over in a dead faint. (rather like the paper shredder)
As my hearing slowly heads south for the duration, being able to ‘hear’ such performances through my eyes as well as my ears (and hearing aids) is a wondrous gift.