Yesterday morning, I began the excavation of a small room that runs alongside our bedroom. It's 195 sq. ft, so it would be a nice room to sit and read in if it was square, but unfortunately it is 19' x 5' and so it has become a repository for all and sundry. We have gotten to the point that we cannot bring one more thing into the house without we divest ourselves of many, many things, so this is the first step in a dance which will entail clearing out A, so that we can move things from B into A, and then move things from C into B, etc. etc. I'm not sure where it will end, or whether or not I will persevere to the end.
This is Bill's side of the room. It's pretty much what my side looked like to begin with except that we have different types of stuff. For instance, I don't have a bread machine or a telescope or a pellet gun, or a tote bag full of half-burnt blessed candles from church.
This is what my side of the room looks like after the removal of four large bags of trash and some other things that can be put elsewhere. I didn't realize until I looked at this picture that it looks like I am trying to emulate Imelda Marcos in the accumulation of footwear. This is really remarkable because, in truth, I only have 3 pairs of shoes that I wear, and none of them are in this picture. I think this will be a good place to start weeding out next week.
The really hard part of the process is going to to be letting go of the hundreds of books in this room. A lot of them are books we used when we were homeschooling and I'm having a hard time deciding whether or not I should save some of them for my grandchildren. There are also a lot of music books and hymnals that I think I might use some day and probably won't. There are many years worth of American History Magazine which belonged to my father who has been dead for 16 years and who probably never read them, and I probably will not read them either. Sally, if you are reading this, I have sometimes thought that you would like to have them.
So, this is the reason why I haven't written any of the absolutely witty, insightful, and thoroughly fascinating things that I could have written this weekend. Hmmm, maybe if I read some of those magazines I could find something intriguing to write about. Then again, maybe not.
If you are wondering about the hubris of someone who thinks that other people might be interested in the contents of her junkroom, well, I'm wondering about that too. But, you know, you're always advised to write about what you know, and I know junk. If you have managed to read this far, thank you for your patience.