TIME TO MOVE – WHERE DOES ALL THE STUFF COME FROM

My big project the last three days has been to organize, redistribute, donate or/reattribute my belongings (to other productive uses).

When I lost one of my dogs Monday, I realized I have accumulated entirely too much stuff.  It is my   husband’s fault, of course.

  He retired from an Active Duty Military career in 1999, dragging me to move to one location where I have been forced to gather 14 years of new and improved “gear” and clothing in one woefully inadequate 1714 square foot house.  Not nearly enough room.

Did I mention I am a packrat?  Did I mention he is even worse than me?  My sweetheart has mementos, like his football stuff and gym shorts from high school.  That, I do not have.  I do however have at least 200 notebooks and assorted diaries of all my dribbling (that I can locate at this time under the piles and corpses).  I have tiny travel notebook (nothing fancy, just like to refer to it as TRAVEL NOTEBOOKS) full of quasi interesting and funny observations and my wander at all the great beauties of the world I’ve been graced to see.

Lest I get back into the party mode, last one being only five years ago – I must hold onto raffle tickets, cute little trinkets for give aways, Hawaiian leis, funny horsehoe hats you can wear on your head…and all matter of stuff I pull out for my celebrations.  Having only recently grown up, I fully believe your parties should be based in childhood joy, whether any actual children attend or not

Top of my world view list: Ireland, followed closely by Italy, followed by Scotland, England and Wales, then by California (all the beaches and Monterrey, the vineyards and the place with all the birds), the Carolinas, Cape Cod and Alaska…and 1000’s of pictures, memoirs, and dohickies I’ve picked up here and there.  Never could turn down an interesting dohicky.

 I do like to travel, but I hate to fly so it is a problem.  Now if I could drive to Europe, I’d be there this summer and out of the monsoon heat and rain which is Tucson in July and part of August.

Anyway, I started out talking about the bits and pieces of life that stay with you in the form of possessions, objects, memories and souvenirs.

 I have the weeniest little Scotch or is it whisky bottle in a tiny plastic package I got in one of those English speaking European countries (you know who you are) and I cannot possibly get rid of it.  I keep thinking I should give it to someone for fun….but I can’t let it go.  I have a collection of tiny plastic ducks, I love them and cannot part with them.

Ah, well, I’ve only had most of my travel souvenirs since 1998. 

Over this past week I filled one huge 50 or 100 quart plastic bin and I’m about ready to toss furniture …. But the husband doesn’t feel it…  Furniture out means furniture in, you know.

I’ve taken a serious and painstaking view of my closet and found sizes 4 (FOUR!!!!) to 18, all in this one section I call my own.  I don’t know who the fat lady is but she needs to get her clothes out of there.  And where is that toothpick women, the pantsuits need to go, especially the powder blue number.  Get with it.  Help, come with me to my closet and dig me out.

I have more tokens and treasure from where I’ve traveled.  I have every card my husband has every given me.  I also have every card every other person has given me going back about 15 or so years. 

I’m in real trouble.  I drown in paper and still have all my old training materials and such from various professional positions going back about 25-35 years.  Someone, I need weaning. 

I have a friend retiring August 30^th, and shall suggest to her that this shall be the project for her first year out of the work force.

I have towels in all the colors I’ve redesigned the bathrooms to when I really wanted to get new flooring or something, but couldn’t afford it.  I wander, would the human society want these?

The lady at Goodwill knows me by name and recognizes my car.  When I drive up loaded with things to contribute, she hides, as it’s a real back killer – even with me helping.

Honest to goodness, I always start out the big purge with good intents.  However, the other little character trait I have – over which I have little control – is ADD and also OATABADD (Attention Deficit Disorder and Older Adult There’s a Bird Attention Deficit Disorder.)

Now, what was I saying?  Oh, yeah, I’m exhausted just thinking about this and already frustrated so I think I shall procrastinate.  It is Sunday and church day….which I will be returning to shortly, but for God’s sake don’t have a conniption, I do prayer nightly and frequently.

I think it’s time to read the Sunday paper and leave organizing to another day.