I am purging stuff out of my house... another round of decrapification. (Yeah, add that one to your dictionary, spell check.) In the past two days, I have taken three carloads like this to area thrift stores. There's been so much stuff, the woman working at one told me she would prefer I not comeback with more until her workers have a chance to sort. But I am not waiting; there are another dozen boxes already packed to go tomorrow.
Todd was impressed when he got home, but maybe a little scared, too. Like, WHY all the cleaning out?! Is one of us going somewhere?!
Well, if you have ever been in our house, you know why. It's too full of too much stuff. I think I hide it pretty well... but don't open a cupboard at risk of an avalanche!
The basement is the worst. This unfinished wasteland of our two-story house is literally a dump. When we moved into this house, life was crazy. We had a brand-new baby, along with a three-year-old and a four-year-old. There were lots of projects to make the home liveable... and life just kept turning.
It's been six years. From time to time, I go down to the basement to dig through a still unpacked box, looking for another collander, or something. When I buy something and don't want to deal with it, down it goes.
The basement is also home to all the usual household stuff that needs storage-- Christmas decorations, hand-me-downs, paint cans. Plus, we stow extra lake gear there; where do you keep your portable fish house?! But, when I have a whole level of a house for storage, things get out of hand. Piles grow. Messes spread. Stuff multiplies.
We would, someday when we get rich, like to finish our basement. So, that's all... I'm getting to work.
Of course, while I'm clearing out one level, the kids are trashing the other two. Story of my life.