Must Gos

When I was little, my mother would often serve "must-gos." It was the 1970s, there was a recession going on. My father worked construction--when he had a job. In my childhood, a luxury item consisted of new shoelaces for the handmedown sneakers some family friend had passed my way.

Must-gos were combined foods: spaghetti, English muffins and peas that all were on the end of their life cycle. They were combined in a variety of ways to form our daily cuisine. Mom came up with this clever name to disguise what they really were: leftovers on the edge.

I have some must-go tenants right now. They are also leftovers on the edge. They should have been long gone, but I put up with them a smattering longer than necessary just because they wanted to play. These are the Haroldines, Ms. Kathy and Ms. Shirleys of the world. I think of them as a bean soup. Add another can of broth and the soup can go on indefinitely. They augmented their shelf life, getting a bit more time by adding preservatives (in this case rent) to my bank account. However, they still give me stomach ache when I have to deal with them.

The other must-go are the tenants who should never have been allowed in the first place--the Grandmother and her five grandchildren in Leeds. Yes, two weeks into their lease and they violated the basic rules: pay the rent. So, now I am having to clean out the pantry again. I am in the process of sanitizing and deodorizing, all because they were beyond salvageable before they even moved in.  I am doing this all in hopes that we can get someone in there that is truly palatable.