Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong bloggers

I don't know why, but I steadfastly refuse to become upset about the fire in our condo. I've had several people comment on how calmly I'm taking it, but I'm still so grateful that no one was there that night.

I suppose it helps that it was a second home and didn't have a whole lot in it that really matters to me. And what did matter was little things like a Mother's Day card my son made for me when he was in kindergarten.

But anyway, we knew we had to head downtown to the condo today to meet with the contractor who's handling the restoration. What a fun birthday for Mr. Buxom! (I came thisclose to asking the bakery to put little fire engines on his birthday cake--but I decided against it in the off chance that he might not find the idea side-splittingly hilarious.)

The first thing we needed to do was figure out what we wanted cleaned and what we thought we should just pitch. The limitations being the amount of insurance money we'll be getting (and it's not enough, so check your policies, people!) and the practicality of cleaning things like sofa cushions and pillows that have been steeped in smoke for over a week.

The to-be-cleaned stuff includes:

all of the dishes
pots and pans
silverware
glasses
clothes
artwork
two lamps
the midcentury modern china cabinet I thrifted
the rummage sale chair upholstered in Brunschwig & Fils fabric
the leopard print towels from Pottery Barn
my son's bunk bed frame
my daughter's twin bed frame
five occasional tables
the liquor.

The to-be-pitched stuff:

two rooms of wall-to-wall carpeting
all the area rugs except for the one in the living room
the window treatments
all of the upholstered furniture except for the rummage sale chair
the dining room table and chairs
the Murphy bed in my daughter's room
our bedframe and upholstered headboard
all of the mattresses
all of the pillows
all bedding
the books
the televisions
the digital keyboard
all the small kitchen appliances
the wireless internet equipment
all cosmetics and toiletries
possibly the refrigerator
the food

Notice that we're throwing out the food and keeping the liquor.

Priorities, people!

(Want to cheer up Mr. Buxom? Leave him a birthday comment.)