Clearing clutter: D. I. Y, or let the heirs do it?

Stuff on one wall of the dining room

One bookshelf full and running over; one cat too many

 Downsizing, articles call it, but since I’m NOT moving to a smaller house, I must call it something else: trimming, shrinking, decreasing in size, or reducing in volume. BFF Dot calls it "thinning.” 

Research says that “downsizing” came into the lexicon in 1986 when companies began shedding jobs. Earlier, in 1974, the word was supposedly coined by General Motors when auto companies began making smaller cars and trucks.

When one inherits a houseful of her parents’ things, PLUS her grandmother’s things, PLUS the stuff one brings to the house when she moves in . . . And when one is getting to the advanced age where the end of life becomes more a reality each day, month, and year, one needs to be mindful of these things.

One day, I scooped up from under the buffet a plastic box that I thought hadn’t been touched since I moved here in 2006. But it had—by me—in 2009. It was full of Kid Billy’s school programs and menus, clippings from the Daily Siftings Herald and the Arkansas Times—things from the five Arkadelphia years.

Many of the clippings had my note “Story” inked in. That was before my first novel had been written but were articles about the history of the 1930s. Those found a new home in the recycling box. I kept columns from Richard Allin and Charles Allbright and one article from the Arkansas Times by Bob Lancaster.

The next day, pleased with my previous day’s “thinning” activity, I ventured into a back bedroom that had become a catch-all when the floors were re-done in the front.  When Kid Billy moved back in August, his extra belongings were deposited there.

I began with an old, yellowed box that held old, yellowed envelopes addressed to a long-dead Couch great uncle whom I’d only heard about. An entire ancient shoebox held his legacy. I Facebooked the family group and asked if anyone wanted it. Youngest brother said he’d like them; he didn’t know Uncle Lewis and would like to. GOOD!

In another deep box lid were myriad letters, school reports, post cards, some as far back as 1905, belonging to Mom’s mother. I sent word to a Tennessee cousin who took an interest in that side of the family’s genealogy that she could have a boxful of Grandma Flossie’s correspondence and even a journal.

Then I hung two collages of family photos and one of Billy as a toddler. Ah! Should I wish to, I could actually sit on one end of the pullout sofa. One of these days, it might serve as a guest room again.

In the meantime, if I get tired, I can relax in an old, Naugahyde-covered rocker and watch a VHS of my choosing. Though I don’t have a working TV, I DO have a VHS player--$50 from the pawn shop several years ago.

                Hope you have a happy March!   

                                              Another view of too much stuff - same cats

 c 2018 PL