Cleaning out the house.
I am a pack rat. Have a hard time tossing anything out, so as a result, my little house is overflowing, especially now that BS has come back home with all the detritus of 7 years of independent living. This is not good for my peace of mind, my inner harmony, my zen, so today we tackled the attic.
3 piles - 1 for the trash (and we filled up our big bin pretty quickly), 1 for charity, and 1 to keep. My problem is that I will find something that not only have I not seen in years, but I forgot I even had it. Funny thing is, my life has not been burdened by the lack of this 'thing' in it for all these many years, but when I clap eyes on it in the dim attic, suddenly I can't live without it. "Ooooh, look at that little suitcase. That was mine when I was a little girl. Ah, such memories. I can't get rid of that!" You know how it goes.
Here is the attic:
Clutter. And you can't see it, but everything in it is covered with a fine layer of soot. I have an oil-burning furnace in the garage, and the properties of physics being what they are, the warm soot that leaks out of the pipe rises to the ceiling, where it gets sucked into the small spaces around the attic stairs to waft into the vast cavern under the roof and coat all possible surfaces. There is also lingering evidence of previous raccoon habitation, if you know what I mean.
Tomorrow I am calling the guy who got rid of the raccoons to see if he will do a thorough clean-up or knows someone who will. I don't have the desire to be breathing in the foul dust made of dried raccoon poop that I am kicking up rummaging around up there.
Anyone want a really cool old little suitcase? No? Well, I guess I'll have to keep it then. I'll try to make room for it.
I am a pack rat. Have a hard time tossing anything out, so as a result, my little house is overflowing, especially now that BS has come back home with all the detritus of 7 years of independent living. This is not good for my peace of mind, my inner harmony, my zen, so today we tackled the attic.
3 piles - 1 for the trash (and we filled up our big bin pretty quickly), 1 for charity, and 1 to keep. My problem is that I will find something that not only have I not seen in years, but I forgot I even had it. Funny thing is, my life has not been burdened by the lack of this 'thing' in it for all these many years, but when I clap eyes on it in the dim attic, suddenly I can't live without it. "Ooooh, look at that little suitcase. That was mine when I was a little girl. Ah, such memories. I can't get rid of that!" You know how it goes.
Here is the attic:
Tomorrow I am calling the guy who got rid of the raccoons to see if he will do a thorough clean-up or knows someone who will. I don't have the desire to be breathing in the foul dust made of dried raccoon poop that I am kicking up rummaging around up there.
Anyone want a really cool old little suitcase? No? Well, I guess I'll have to keep it then. I'll try to make room for it.
3 comments:
Ahhh, the suitcase.
I have a set of avocado green Samsonite suitcases I received in the late 1960's for Christmas. I'm sure you can understand how elated I was to get this under the Christmas tree. My medium sized suit case has a sticker on it. Room 343. Hotel Eisenhut. From my trip to Europe in my 18th summer. Going to http://www.germanplaces.com/germany/rothenburg-ob-der-tauber.html.
I want to get rid of those damn suitcases, but I can't. Because of the stickers from Hotel Eisenhut and my memories of that beautiful city in Germany.
Thanks, Ticks, for the memories.
http://www.eisenhut-rothenburg.com/
There's the most glorious hotel I've ever stayed in. It was 1971.
rosie, what a pretty place. You must never get rid of that old, ugly, useless baggage. Even if you never look at it again and it gets moldy and falls apart in your attic. You can't live without it.
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