Here I go again, into #purgemode
I case you don't know what I'm talking about, I am referring to the beginning of the getting rid of all my stuff that happened in May/June last year, just after Dan left and as I was getting ready to move away from Ucluelet.
Each time I go into Victoria now, it seems I am getting something out of storage. Last week I had a list of a few things I wanted to get. While I was rooting around in my stuff, I couldn't help but notice the wooden hangers.
What an odd thing to keep. I know. After several cullings, somehow those made the cut. But see, I put a lot of thought and effort into those wooden hangers. They symbolized a shift towards more quality items instead of plastic hangers (which, I must point out, are much lighter and take up less space).
So I thought about them for a few days and decided that even though I have a small collection (there are about 20 of them, maybe not as many as that), I'm going to leave them behind. They don't need to travel across the continent. I'm willing to bet I can buy wooden hangers in North Carolina, and for cheaper than I paid for them here.
My consciousness is shifting. I am continuously reconsidering all those things I have packed and repacked. I have yards of fabric that I plan to sew "someday" even though I gave my sewing machine away and I'm not actually excited about the fabric anymore. So that should go too. So should the patterns. I barely know how to use a sewing machine, I'm a knitter for crying out loud.
So here I am, whittling down my stuff even further. I'm not culling my kitchen tools - they are too dear and carefully selected, and besides I don't have that many.
The last thing I may have to reconsider is - gasp - my books.
Dan and I have a lot of books. Not as many as we used to, but at the moment it stands at about 25 boxes, with the majority of them being Dan's science fiction paperbacks. I admit I am not excited about the idea of revisiting our collection and making further decisions about what should go, especially in the middle of winter in a cold, uninsulated basement. Dan and I may have a conversation about the books when he's here. One could argue that because I'm doing further culling of my other things that there will be more room for the books. I'm just thinking about packing all that stuff into the back of my truck and driving across mountain ranges.
Don't tell Dan, but I'm hoping I can convince him to take some things back with him on the plane. Nothing in particular, it would just be nice to have less stuff to pack when, someday in the unforseeble [sic] future, I can cross the border with my green card. Sure do wish I knew when that would be. Yep. That would really help me do things like plan my life.
I case you don't know what I'm talking about, I am referring to the beginning of the getting rid of all my stuff that happened in May/June last year, just after Dan left and as I was getting ready to move away from Ucluelet.
Each time I go into Victoria now, it seems I am getting something out of storage. Last week I had a list of a few things I wanted to get. While I was rooting around in my stuff, I couldn't help but notice the wooden hangers.
What an odd thing to keep. I know. After several cullings, somehow those made the cut. But see, I put a lot of thought and effort into those wooden hangers. They symbolized a shift towards more quality items instead of plastic hangers (which, I must point out, are much lighter and take up less space).
So I thought about them for a few days and decided that even though I have a small collection (there are about 20 of them, maybe not as many as that), I'm going to leave them behind. They don't need to travel across the continent. I'm willing to bet I can buy wooden hangers in North Carolina, and for cheaper than I paid for them here.
My consciousness is shifting. I am continuously reconsidering all those things I have packed and repacked. I have yards of fabric that I plan to sew "someday" even though I gave my sewing machine away and I'm not actually excited about the fabric anymore. So that should go too. So should the patterns. I barely know how to use a sewing machine, I'm a knitter for crying out loud.
So here I am, whittling down my stuff even further. I'm not culling my kitchen tools - they are too dear and carefully selected, and besides I don't have that many.
The last thing I may have to reconsider is - gasp - my books.
Dan and I have a lot of books. Not as many as we used to, but at the moment it stands at about 25 boxes, with the majority of them being Dan's science fiction paperbacks. I admit I am not excited about the idea of revisiting our collection and making further decisions about what should go, especially in the middle of winter in a cold, uninsulated basement. Dan and I may have a conversation about the books when he's here. One could argue that because I'm doing further culling of my other things that there will be more room for the books. I'm just thinking about packing all that stuff into the back of my truck and driving across mountain ranges.
Don't tell Dan, but I'm hoping I can convince him to take some things back with him on the plane. Nothing in particular, it would just be nice to have less stuff to pack when, someday in the unforseeble [sic] future, I can cross the border with my green card. Sure do wish I knew when that would be. Yep. That would really help me do things like plan my life.
Keep your chin up! And don't get rid of the books. I am a book-aholic like Dan. I think I would give up my cat before my books...
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