The Culling

It has begun. If I were pregnant, I would say I was nesting, but right now we'll call it action fueled by an intense fear of becoming my parents.

Lately my mother has been calling me regularly to ask if I want something; two days ago it was a text about my prom champagne glasses (yes, but only because Husband loves sparkling wine), and today it was a phone call about the 50+ coffee mugs she and my dad have acquired over their 38+ years together. They used to collect them, and while I was growing up they lined the tops of our cabinets, cheerily bearing witness to all the places any of us had ever been. It's just been in the last house that they moved to in 2001 that the mugs went into a storage cabinet and haven't seen the light of day. I impolitely declined, and suggested that she dispose of them quickly and painlessly.

It's not that I don't love the thought of those mugs; I do. But after at least five towns and who knows how many houses (I don't even think Mom remembers anymore), my parents have collected so much junk that they don't even know where to put it all. There are boxes in their house that I'm pretty sure were packed in 1987 and haven't been opened since, just staying hidden move after move. And that's why I've begun to clear out my own things -- I'm terrified that the same thing will happen to me. What started as a way to make my house look better to potential buyers has turned into an all-out war against clutter.

I started last Friday with my linen closet, and as of today, I have finished my section of the closet (where I found a huge stack of wedding thank-you notes that never got written. Do you think they still want one after 3 years? It might be funny to send them now, but I doubt I still have the addresses. Or the desire). I have probably 5 shopping bags full and ready to go to Goodwill; my criteria for keeping and giving away (a few things got trashed, but not much) was this: Have I worn it this winter? Keep. Will I/am I capable of wearing it this winter? If yes, Keep. If no, give away. Honestly, there were a few sweaters I was sad to see go, but really, if I haven't worn it yet, I'm not going to. Because let's be honest - I'm probably only getting fatter.

But this was the saddest sight to me:

I don't wear very many pairs of shoes. I typically have 3 pairs that get rotated regularly. But I love having options, and there's something about a beautiful pair of heels that just makes the world beautiful. Like these, which I bought 3 years ago this month on clearance at Macy's. I have worn them twice (I think; it's possible that it's only once).

I put them on and danced around the bathroom a little bit before putting them into the Goodwill pile. Sadly, pregnancy made my feet grow by a half size, so after just a few minutes I was ready to take them off. If you're a 7 1/2 and want them, just ask.


I cleared out the door and the floor racks and decided that having as many as filled up the floor rack was probably still too many, but I'd stick to it. And I did.

And here are the sad, lonely friends heading off to Goodwill and hopefully a good home.

Molly, if you want your black Pumas back, now is the time to speak up.

The rest of this week, I'll be working on the storage room downstairs and the guest room closet, both of which are super small projects, but if I tell myself I only have to get those done, I'll feel like a good worker when they're finished by Wednesday. But the biggest project for the week, the one that requires my locking Husband in the bedroom and not letting him out, is this:

Those two drawers sticking out the furthest? All SOCKS. When I told him he should get rid of some, he said, "Nonsense. The drawers are just too small." I told him he had two options: he does it, or I do. It's the first time he's ever volunteered to clean anything. Probably in his life. And, just so you know, because Husband works for an internet company, I decided to keep his name out of it. The last thing his clients need to see when searching for their new rep is this:

Yes, that is a shirt from "The Incredible Shrinking Woman."

Oh, and about the house - they countered, we counter-countered, and we're all guessing that we should be at a decision by tomorrow. So... it's (almost) official. We probably won't close until May, but we're moving! To a giant house. That I have to fill with furniture. And decorate. I think I've lost my mind a little.