Taken from a phrase of Meggin McIntosh, I have glance around my office and realized that “desk-a-vation” is essential.
Actually, it will be an excavation project as I have piles of this and that stacked everywhere – and this extends far beyond the office to every angle of my home.
The simplest answer would be to purchase a new, down-sized home where all this junk would not fit, even with an extra-large garage and maybe even a shop. Then I’d be force to chuck a bunch.
Having lived here for 30 years, stuff happens. After all, how many pens, coffee mugs, notebooks, books, and miscellany do I actually need? I envision a 2-bedroom, one tory home with an office and great room. Forget the rest of the space – I do not need it!
The quickest solution for these piles would be to foist this undertaking onto someone else.
Family might be a wise choice, however, if they discard valuables such as my old yearbooks and gifts from long lost friends, well, I will hurl blame left and right.
A second option is well-meaning friends, particularly those with sparkling, no mess homes themselves.
Once again, the snag is what if they toss amazing mementos and they may then discover me out rifling through the garbage can to retrieve said items, then sneaking them back into secret closets and corners.
Embarrassing as well as silly, I see myself, head over heels in a dumpster. You may think, “You asked, they responded, and ultimate responsibility would be to respect their decisions.
Finally, the sanest ruling is do it myself. You remember last year I did the ever-building article a day throw away – one for the first day of the month, two for the second, all the way to the 31st and thirty-one items discarded (although I am pretty sure I picked a shorter month!).
Adding all those together equals “a whole bunch”. Sadly, I miss some of those things, those treasures, those unique and special pieces of trash. The little velvet jacket belonged to my mom; the floating blue dress fitted well and felt comfortable (actually it felt comfortable because it was two sizes too big); the old broken typewriter is most likely a collector’s item. Alas – gone!
Consulting with my niece, Lisa, who is currently packing for a move, totes are a recommended solution.
Large ones can fit Christmas decorations, blankets, clothes that I don’t wear but would like to keep, books and papers that appear potentially useful in the future, and other gems. Smaller ones will assist in arranging shelves of clutter into recognizable totes of – oops – the same clutter, but more organized.
Labeling each tote makes things easy to re-locate when required. If, after a year of not digging into the tote, bravery states that I should fling it into the wind (garbage can) and never peek inside.
Out of sight, out of mind, and out of my home. Fear tells me I will sneak inside before the wild toss, but I readily admit that that would be a mistake because chances are I will reconsider and keep worthless knickknacks.
The phrase “worthless knickknacks” comes from Lynn. He laughs when I take excursions with my family and return with mugs, scarves, books, figurines, and other delights to add to my already overstocked shelves and cupboards.
The most challenging part of gathering these assorted curios includes that they are even harder to eject from my life because each contains a “remember when”: Remember our trip to Alaska when…?? Remember the time when… You get my drift.
One facet of life that prevents many purchases incorporates thoughts of all of this bric-a-brac filling landfills. A book disintegrates over time as do wooden toys and cloth dolls.
However, metal plaques and ceramic mugs last for centuries, taking up space without any purpose. Even plastic bags possess an astonishing lifespan. I imagine future archeologists will wonder at our waste and question our odd collecting behaviors.
Having put this article to bed last evening, I awakened this morning with garbage-related ambition. Taking it one shelf, one box, one closet at a time has been fulfilling.
While this endeavor has thus far yielded but three bags to toss, three is better than zero, plus things around my home are shaping up. Energy abounds as my eyes peruse each area and eager hands assemble new piles for consideration. Desk-a-vation salvation!
Perhaps the garage is next.