It seems I’ve been on blog vacation for a while now. I didn’t really decide to take said vacation, I just didn’t feel like writing for a while. I guess I got busy with other things. Now I remember that once I quit writing, the words build up so much that I lose track of what I might write about.
The first thing that kept me from writing was the massive decluttering I began. (It may not be finished for some time yet.) I had been talking about it for a while, and finally I just tore into a closet, and then a dresser drawer, and it took off. One day I decided I was sick of trying to figure out how much I would owe next for the mini-storage unit I rented 2 years ago. I corraled my son into helping me empty it, and then spent a couple of days going through all of the treasures I’d put there. Fortunately, there was a big donation day planned for the victims of the recent fires to pressure me, and I managed to get rid of at least three-quarters of it.
What surprised me was how much emotion is attached to the stuff I collect. For example, I finally decided to part with a favorite dress. It was quite expensive when new, and I loved wearing it, but hadn’t done so for several years. I kept it mainly because I remembered that my dad loved that dress; he thought it looked great on me. As I put it into the donation box, I thought “Oh, but Dad loved this dress…Wait!! Dad died in 1991. Even he would say enough is enough.” So into the box it went. On and on like that.
The next big purge was my books. That was really painful. Even though I knew I would never reread all those books, it was really difficult to let go. One day I invited a friend over to see if he wanted any of them. As he picked through the books spread out on the bed, I heard myself dissuading him from taking the ones he wanted. “I don’t think you’d like that one. It’s fiction. That one? Well, maybe but maybe not.” After he chose 8 or so, I had to tell him that if he found he didn’t want them, he could just bring them back. My goodness. I’m glad he persevered through my obstinancy and took some. In the end, I took three big boxes of hard-backs to the library, and traded in four more of trade paperbacks at the used bookstore. Whew!
Now I have only the last quarter of the mini-storage stuff to deal with, and should probably make another pass through the whole house. I’ll just open a vein and donate! Who knew it would be so hard?