Downsizing
I would love to post some photos of my completed living room with its rearranged furniture and new floor. I would, but I can’t. I’m still unpacking all our stuff from boxes. We threw everything in them in about ten minutes. I’ve spent HOURS pulling bits and pieces of my life back out of those boxes.
One reason is the rearrangement of furniture. I can’t simply replace knickknacks and electronics where they were before. So I’m seeking new spots for lots of these doodads and thingamabobs.
Another reason is I have a sudden aversion to clutter. I discovered I liked the looks of wide expanses of open floor and sparse shelves and tabletops.
Here I am, married to the king of packrats and I’m turning Shaker. Aren’t those the people who hang their chairs from pegs on the wall when they aren’t using them?
As a writer, I love a good conflict. But I don’t care for this one so much. Mostly because I don’t stand a chance of winning it. Nature and my hubby abhor a vacuum. I clear out a space and stand back, proudly observing the fruits of my labor, only to have Hubby give a yip of glee to have discovered a new place to park a bundle of his camping gear.
I’m trying to downsize. Once I’d emptied one of the packing boxes, I pronounced it to be a garbage box. Another box is collecting books and DVDs headed for Half Price Books.
I know…Getting rid of books is nothing short of torture. But if I’m aiming for a clean look to my house, that overflowing to-be-read mountain stacked next to the bursting to-be-read shelves has to go. I bought some of those books YEARS ago and now wonder why??? I’m sure they’re wonderful. But if I lived to 110, I’d never be able to read all those books. Even if I never bought another one. And THAT isn’t going to happen.
I ordered Hubby to go through the box with “his stuff” in it and put what he wants to keep back on its shelf in the cupboard. I also pointed out the garbage box for what he can part with. Not a single thing went in the garbage box. In fact, I had to fight him to keep him from going through it in case he disagreed with my opinion of what constitutes “garbage.”
He still has another stack of “his stuff” to sort through. I have higher hopes for some of this pile going into the trash. Can he possibly have a good reason to hang onto his appointment book from 2002?
I’d like to have the living room put back together before we start work on the rest of the house. I don’t anticipate many problems with the bedroom. Not a lot of clutter in there. And the bathroom will be a piece of cake.
But then there’s my office.
Anyone know where I can rent a dumpster?
One reason is the rearrangement of furniture. I can’t simply replace knickknacks and electronics where they were before. So I’m seeking new spots for lots of these doodads and thingamabobs.
Another reason is I have a sudden aversion to clutter. I discovered I liked the looks of wide expanses of open floor and sparse shelves and tabletops.
Here I am, married to the king of packrats and I’m turning Shaker. Aren’t those the people who hang their chairs from pegs on the wall when they aren’t using them?
As a writer, I love a good conflict. But I don’t care for this one so much. Mostly because I don’t stand a chance of winning it. Nature and my hubby abhor a vacuum. I clear out a space and stand back, proudly observing the fruits of my labor, only to have Hubby give a yip of glee to have discovered a new place to park a bundle of his camping gear.
I’m trying to downsize. Once I’d emptied one of the packing boxes, I pronounced it to be a garbage box. Another box is collecting books and DVDs headed for Half Price Books.
I know…Getting rid of books is nothing short of torture. But if I’m aiming for a clean look to my house, that overflowing to-be-read mountain stacked next to the bursting to-be-read shelves has to go. I bought some of those books YEARS ago and now wonder why??? I’m sure they’re wonderful. But if I lived to 110, I’d never be able to read all those books. Even if I never bought another one. And THAT isn’t going to happen.
I ordered Hubby to go through the box with “his stuff” in it and put what he wants to keep back on its shelf in the cupboard. I also pointed out the garbage box for what he can part with. Not a single thing went in the garbage box. In fact, I had to fight him to keep him from going through it in case he disagreed with my opinion of what constitutes “garbage.”
He still has another stack of “his stuff” to sort through. I have higher hopes for some of this pile going into the trash. Can he possibly have a good reason to hang onto his appointment book from 2002?
I’d like to have the living room put back together before we start work on the rest of the house. I don’t anticipate many problems with the bedroom. Not a lot of clutter in there. And the bathroom will be a piece of cake.
But then there’s my office.
Anyone know where I can rent a dumpster?
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Comments
I felt the same way after we did our floors and painted. All those 'antiques' and things and stuff came off the walls and now I don't want to put anything back. It looks so clean and bigger!
Mark's argument for having stuff lying around has always been that it made our house look like a home. Grrrrrr. Ya, a home where nobody puts anything away!