Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Got Stuff? Cause We Sure Do.

Well, I got my wish.  We got our couch back.  Our couch, our bed, our coffee table...and all manner of stuff that had nice little places to tuck themselves in our last house.

This house?  Not so much.  Let's just say that we've made more than a few donations to the Goodwill over the last few weeks.  We just don't have the space.

The movers converged on our tiny, empty house and filled it right the hell on up!

Giant crates upon crates of all our worldly possessions, soon to be unloaded...

This house was built in 1951, so it's a little sparse on closets and storage.  Plus, a legit pare down of non-essentials is always good.  I feel lighter already with fewer things clogging up our space.

It really is incredible how much crap we have the ability to collect as the years go by.  Knick-knacks, chachkies, trinkets, brick-a-brack - what do you call it?

I call it time to go.  But it's not just the trinkets.  It's the accumulation of items over time that adds up to unnecessary STUFF.  And it's time to say goodbye to a chunk of it.

I think it's easier to adopt this mindset when things don't necessarily have their spot to live carved out yet.  Well that, and the fact that some of our belongings are looking a little shabby these days.

Move number 4 has taken its toll. We even took a run to the dump last week to get rid of bulky, lived their life items that needed to be replaced with less trashy looking equivalents.

We tossed broken, beat to shit metal filing cabinets, our T.V. stand that had gone through enough moves that it had war wounds and inexplicable water damage, and our dining room table that couldn't possibly be donated in the condition it was in.  And others!

The start of the pile boxes everywhere party.  And Cheety?  Not impressed.

We're getting there.  It's slow, but bit by bit we're making our way to a functional household again.

I've said it before, but I think I blocked out how draining and drawn out the whole move process is.  I'm pretty sure I've purged it from my memory because I don't recall feeling this...over it.

I must have been, though.  I just don't remember the numbing details. And. All. The. Stuff.

Once we unpacked all the boxes, we were left with this lovely yard art as evidence.  On the up side, the moving company came back to pick up all the cardboard - so I only had to gaze out at le sculpture du box for about a week.

And now the unspoken challenge.  No new chachkies allowed!

Ta-ta for now.

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