Souvenir shoppers beware.
Old People, beware.
There is this disease of sorts that seems to be running around the world these days — worse than Covid 19, worse than malaria. Well, worse in the fact that so many of us suffer from it.
Sometimes we recognize the symptoms and can live with them; other times we ignore the signs until it’s too late. It can strike young, middle-aged, or old people.
Yes, it’s a people disease.
It’s called SAVING THINGS.
Come on, be honest — how many of you have way too many unicorns, shot glasses, signs, or spoons from places you visited 40 years ago? Your kids baby teeth, their first artwork, their second artwork, their 354th artwork. Yard implements you might someday actually use. Cute pots you may eventually use to transplant overgrown houseplants. A jungle where your patio door used to be.
I’ve felt the strain of this disease for years. Years ago our kids lived with us for a while while looking for a new house. They found one. Half of their stuff was moved out. Five years later they found another house. The rest of their stuff finally found its way to the door.
I was getting close to 70 (still am), and find I cannot handle all this clutter I’ve collected through the years. I thought I binge cleaned and donated a few times already but this disease is like watching a pot of water boil… little bubbles keep popping up, one bubble at a time, until you turn around and the pot is boiling over.
What made me think of this is looking out on my front deck at three dogs. None are my original choice, but I opened my heart and took them in at various times in my life. No regrets.
Except there’s too many dogs in my house.
I am getting old and need peace and quiet.
Maybe that’s why I’m purging my house of knickknacks and extra rugs and baby toys and all sorts of things that have long outgrown their use. It’s not hoarder stuff — it’s clutter stuff.
I think that’s worse.
I need to be able to walk through a room without knocking something over, or smile fondly at a few unicorns in a cabinet and not think of having to dust 00 more or stop tripping over the pots I’ve stacked by the back door to bring to Good Will a month ago. I want to go for a walk without having to yell a three sniffers/wanderers/adventurers to get back here or else.
Ahhh…. my dream world.
What is yours?