Decluttering

Decluttering has been an ongoing project around here for a while. That’s because I’m moving at an absolute glacial pace without any real hope for improvement in this lifetime.

While motivated to not suffocate under the weight of my own stuff, I’m stymied by two things:

  1. The phrase “but it’s really nice” often slows down the process. I have to constantly remind myself that if I don’t need a thing, it doesn’t matter how nice the thing is. Do you know that until about two weeks ago, I owned five colanders? I cannot begin to explain the reasons behind this.
  2. I collect things with potential and I hate to let go of potential. Vintage items that will someday be rotated in to my home decor, random craft projects, and scraps of ribbon and fabric (because you never know when you might need precisely five inches of a beautiful blue ribbon) are particular weaknesses.

I realized this week that I own so many black socks there is no reason to ever again wear an uncomfortable pair of socks. Slidey socks are unwelcome here.

Scout isn’t all that helpful. I emptied this fabric box earlier this week and he has laid claim to it. He seems to believe it’s the nicest box he’s ever set paw in and hasn’t been receptive to my suggestions that we move it. We certainly can’t give it away since he’s discovered the creature comforts of having a fabric box of one’s own!

I did drop off a carload of donations a couple of weeks ago and have another bag started already. Progress is progress, I guess. Even if it is slow!

Packrats, Minimalism and Balance

There’s a shed in my yard that my dad built years ago. It looks like a small barn with a built-in workbench and a couple of corner shelves. There’s also a whole lot of junk piled up everywhere you look. Seriously, the door barely opens.

I spent some time in there last night pulling stuff out and shaking my head at the amount of junk that has accumulated. Mind you, I enjoy salvaging old stuff but there’s very little in there that merits salvaging. Rusted old curtain rods, disposable plastic flower pots, broken tools, partial bags of potting soil, pieces of siding and all manner of crap have the place bursting at the seams.

I made a very small dent and have a decent pile of stuff to go to the trash. So far, there’s not much to recycle. As I was pulling out things, I couldn’t help but notice that everything represented a choice over time. That choice was simple: “Do I throw it away now or do I throw it away later?”

And so I chose to throw it away later …. which is now.

Truth be told, I come from a long line of packrats. My dad may be their King but I suspect the generations before him were no slobs in this department.

At the risk of sounding like an enabler, I understand why we are the way we are.

I come from rural America. Southern Ohio is very Appalachian. We tend to have fewer resources here. The jobs don’t pay so well which means that we can’t always afford to buy something new or even hire a repairman when something breaks.

We were DIY’ers before influencers on YouTube told us it was cool.

Things have changed over time. Online shopping makes it so much easier to have a new appliance or lawn mower part delivered. Although, it wasn’t that long ago that you had to walk into the local hardware and have them look up your part in a paper catalog and then order it for you via a landline telephone.

We still drive thirty miles one way to buy a fridge, a pair of shoes or anything else you can’t buy at Dollar General, a small grocer, pharmacy or hardware. That is, we did until credit cards and online shopping made it so we don’t even have to leave home for these purchases.

Still, that all requires money that many people around here don’t have.

So we still tend to hold onto things. If your mower breaks and you buy new, you keep the old because you or a neighbor could salvage parts from it. Dad’s garage is like some kind of magic genie bottle. I once bought an antique radio that was missing a knob. He dug around a bit and found exactly what it lacked. This was a particular victory for him and one we won’t soon forget.

I’m not as bad as he is but I do struggle with letting go of things that might be repurposed. This is evidenced in my craft room where scrapbook supplies, bits of ribbon, stray buttons and scraps of fabric mix in with home decor items that occasionally get reimagined.

Social media is full of minimalists who tell us to keep our surfaces clear of clutter and to not stash away in a closet or drawer something that really should be tossed in the trash. They say you need just one plate, bowl, fork and cup for each person in your house and that your cupboards shouldn’t be full of extra food and stuff you don’t need this week. They tells us we will be lighter, happier and better off if we aren’t weighed down by stuff we don’t need.

This concept is tempting and so lovely but so foreign as well. I can’t help thinking that many of these people have never known true need. They’ve never been snowed into a country home where there’s no food delivery service and where the nearest grocery is several slippery miles away.

They don’t know what it’s like to break the heel on a pair of dress shoes and have to wait for replacements until you drive to town or until Amazon can ship you a new pair. The old scuffed up heels that are languishing in the back of the closet will come in handy for work until new can be acquired.

In my case, the building looks more like a hoarder’s paradise than anything useful and it is appalling. My dad at least keeps things that could be useful someday.

Once I finish cleaning out the building, Dad and I are scheming to repurpose it into a potting shed with no longterm storage. Meanwhile, there is still a lot to be done and I fear losing steam to do it before the bees, snakes, spiders and other country critters lay claim to it as the weather warms up.

While he hasn’t said so to my face, I suspect my dad is laughing and wondering who’s the packrat now.

An Unreasonable Attachment To An Old Barn

b9.jpgMy dad built this little shed when I was a kid. I played in there some over the years and it has stored all sorts of things that we probably shouldn’t have kept for so long. You can’t see it from this angle but it’s falling in. It may sound silly to you but I couldn’t humiliate the old girl by photographing her bad side.

I live in the country where a lack of zoning and an endless list of things to do make it easy for packrats like my dad (ahem, and myself too) to let things go for too long. Now, my mother is making my dad clean up his junk and this little building is soon to be on the chopping block.

For the last several years, I have spent snow days wandering around the yard photographing the same darn things over and over again from different angles and with varying light. This will likely be my last snowfall with my old shed and I’m a little nostalgic about it.

But time marches on and a good gust of wind or heavy snow might just take it down for us. It’s time for it to be put out of its misery. Is there something in your life that you personify to the point of unreasonable emotional attachment? I can’t be alone! Tell me about it in the comments!