We're hopeful and think that that this piece of clear plastic might be useful in some creative future that probably won't come. We're fearful that, if we throw out these old, faded pictures of unrecognizable old Finns, we're disrespecting my parents. And the roof rack in the shed? Does that belong to my current Subaru or the one that's going to our grandson? I'd better check, but, later, when I have some time (forgetting that we've used a roof rack just once in how many years?).
And won't this brain of mine just shut up and let me throw stuff away? Of course not.
Finally, though, as with everything, it's about doing the best that you can. We set a goal of emptying our attic and we completed that. We set another goal of emptying one of the two sheds and we completed that. Those leftover roofing shingles - gone. The rusty chains and aforementioned peg board - gone. It's better. It's not all better, but it's better.
And, in the course of things, we got to talking with our neighbor who had some scrap lumber that he was pleased to toss. He also had a couple of pallets that we reclaimed for use for next year's firewood stack. He also had a few stories. Sometimes, being a good neighbor means just listening to one neighbor telling stories about another neighbor. I'm sure that there a few stories about us, too.
"You aren't moving out, are you?" he finally asked.
"No, we're just cleaning. Nearly 30 years of stuff - something's got to go."
"That's good, that you're not moving."
"Not any time soon," I said.
2 comments:
Great story, Karl. The other night, we found a plastic tube, like a thick short straw, that seemed to have materialized on our kitchen counter. We must have spent ten minutes discussing whether to toss it. We eventually did and I still wonder whether it was a crucial part to something. If it was, can we get another one? When each tossed item carries such weight, the task at hand is long indeed.
I hear ya and I feel ya...
It is such a slog.
One technique I've found useful is to take a digital photo of something before it moves on in the world. I pop it into a folder in iPhoto called "Farewells". I'm amazed at how helpful it has been, especially for the vaguely sentimental items.
Good luck with the whole process.
- Lee
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