There is something seriously wrong with me. If my Mother were alive, she’d take me straight away to the nearest E.R. or loony bin, whichever she deemed most appropriate….
A couple of weeks ago, with the help of Chef Vivi, I sorted through boxes stored for years (decades), cleaning out closets, under the stairs storage spots, nooks, crannies, drawers and assorted other hidey holes filled with a lifetime’s accumulation (two if you count the stuff from my Mom, three if you count the stuff from multiple Grandmas) of CRAP.
THIS. IS. SO. NOT. ME.
I come from a LONG and distinguished line of pack-rats. I’m not sure if it’s the Irish in us, or the Cherokee but our clan parts with nothing. NOTHING….we luvs us some stuff. Everything, and I mean everything once belonging to a Dearly Departed family member becomes an heirloom.
Grandpa’s last beer can. Heirloom? Nah….
I adore heirlooms. I can’t imagine not having little pieces of my families history infused into my everyday life (M.I.L.’s bedroom set, Granddad’s dresser, Great Grandmother’s colored glass collection, etc, etc) but lately it has occurred to me that maybe just maybe not everything qualifies as an heirloom.
So I’m sorting through, and boxing up, a butt-ton of former heirlooms who have been demoted to the clutter category….if my Girlies want any of it, more power to ’em but I’m soooooo over carting around boxes full of junk that never gets unpacked. I have literally moved the same unpacked, untouched boxes from one house to another 7 times.
Out it goes. Hubs loaded the back of my truck with boxes full of the unwanted flotsam and jetsam of my life and off to the Goodwill it went!
Good God, y’all! I feel lighter!
Come Christmas time, I’m sorting through all that crap also…
And now, to catalog and list for sale my unused and vast collection of needlework stuff…..
Seriously, I was starting to feel like an episode of Hoarders…..EXCEPT WITHOUT THE TRASH. Gross….A cleaner, neater and more organized version of Hoarders…..Ok, maybe Hoarders was the wrong comparison.
Not anymore asshole!
Point being, I had a lot of stuff. Now I have less. Go Me!
Funny thing is, no one would ever know to look around this place….Tchotchke Headquarters is still located in my house. But I know there’s less clutter….
Which makes me happy!