Once the junipers were dead and gone it was time to enter the house. Unoccupied for three years and fairly neglected for at least a couple decades, the first chore was to undo what 60-plus years of living had done. This included wading through and sifting, sorting, dumping, recycling, repairing, and organizing everything from furniture to clothing to books, kitchenware, appliances, food, plants, hardware, and much, much more. Some things were sent straight to the dumpster, some were piled together for relatives to claim, some hauled to charity, some were claimed for ourselves.
A classic Mormon pantry: bleach bottles filled with water and a five-gallon bucket of (now) crystallized honey in case of a nuclear disaster or the Judgment Day, whichever comes first.
Those who experienced the Great Depression learned not to waste. You never know when three cubic meters of grocery bags might come in handy. Interestingly, the grocery bags were stuffed in the 50-pound flour bin while the flour, maybe 20 pounds, was relegated to a smaller drawer in the pantry.
An International Harvester deep freezer, no longer running but stuck inside of a pantry when new cabinets were placed in front of any exit space.
But you gotta make lemonade out of lemons so the new job of the International Harvester will be to store wine at a respectable 60 degrees and 65 percent humidity.
Eveready cell batteries for a telephone line found in the cellar.
Joys of Jell-O, an undated recipe book published by the General Foods Corporation, and glazed ceramic pots.
A C. Kurtzman & Co. upright piano circa 1915 (?) and sheet music for Marty Robbins' "A White Sport Coat (And a Pink Carnation)" and Bob Wills' "San Antonio Rose".
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