4,000 things gone, still 6,000 to go
…it smells of cheap wine and cigarettes/this place is always such a mess/sometimes I think I’d like to watch it burn
-Jakob Dylan (One Headlight)
I’m no rock star – but minus the smell of cheap wine and cigarettes, I know exactly how Jakob Dylan feels here. Exactly.
After a clutter free weekend away, I came home to face my decluttering project with fresh eyes and renewed enthusiasm. That wore off pretty quickly.
We got in late last night and, after tucking the kids in, I decided to put the six bags and three boxes I collected for the Developmental Disabilities Association out on the porch for today’s pick-up, feeling more than a little proud of myself for being ahead of the game.
I realized this morning that the pick-up is next Monday. Squirrel said I should put the stuff back in the garage right away because the house looked like a “dump site.”
But the spot for my car has been getting narrower and narrower lately due to Squirrel’s bike stand, the mound of stuff he piled in a corner after he cleaned the garage, and my mountain of DDA donations.
So, I decided to tackle Squirrel’s mound of stuff. How bad could it be?
Only a rock star with an addiction problem could know.
There were five baby gates, one 7′ long piece of plywood, a trike, a push handle that doesn’t belong to the trike, two sleds, one pair of ski poles, a sunshade tent, two old car seats, one old stroller, a fireplace gate, two plastic step stools, pieces from a car top rack, two framed posters with broken glass (because I ran into them with the car), a wire frame reindeer with a detached head, 3 candlesticks, 6 cardboard boxes, a child’s broken moped, a dirty tarp, an old set of golf clubs, and two spears that, for a reason I will never understand, hung in the laundry room in our old house.
If you do the math – that’s only 36 things. And they were all covered in spider webs, dirt and dust.
I laid out the baby gates and fireplace gate on the driveway wiped them down, hosed them off and laid them against the garage door to dry. I repeated the process with the tarp, tent and step stools. I made a garbage pile, a donate later pile, and collapsed the cardboard boxes for recycling. I reattached a reindeer head and loaded everything I could into my car to drop off at the thrift store.
Then I found this box:
It was full of this:
I don’t even ask anymore.
By now it was time to pick-up my oldest son from bike camp.
I made a quick stop at the thrift store only to find out that they aren’t accepting donations after 1pm in the summer. I tried to ignore the sign requesting no donations be left outside the Church door. But, in the end, I just couldn’t do it.
I loaded the baby gates back into the car and, later, just managed to squeeze my son and all his bike gear in as well. Lucky!
Driving home, I was aware of the fact that I had collected less than half of the day’s 100 things and actually disposed of none.
I sincerely hoped that through some act of karmic intervention (because I hadn’t littered at the Church perhaps) 54 things would up and leave my house of their own free will while I was out with friends tonight.
No such luck, but as I was rushing out the door 15 minutes late to meet my girlfriends, Squirrel reminded me to empty the donations out of the car when I got home so we could take our oldest to bike camp in the morning.
Where’s that cheap wine?
What I tossed today: Absolutely nothing, but not for lack of trying