Thursday, February 5, 2009


My house in Houston is a mess.  Well, my house is usually a mess because housekeeping is low on my priority list.  It’s a mess now because I am sorting through 34 years of stuff.  You can accumulate a lot of stuff in 34 years especially if you only add stuff and never get rid stuff.  So I have packed boxes of stuff I’m keeping sitting around on the floor.  Open boxes of stuff I’m not keeping sitting around on the floor.  Books we’re not taking sitting around on the floor, like a set of 26 year old Encyclopediae Brittanica and a 56 year old set of World Book of Knowledge encyclopedia.  Books, knick-knacks, kitchen stuff, clothing, old luggage, furniture; all are getting winnowed.  Like the loveseat with the broken springs, thanks to my 150 lb son (referred to around here as ‘the boy’) who would throw himself into it while he was still living at home.  And the funky old unpainted furniture chest of drawers that my mother painted lime green which came from the beach house when we sold it.  And the Ikea wardrobes since the new house has closets, unlike this one.

I am, in fact, enjoying this process.  The grandkids come over and go through the boxes and cart stuff off.  What doesn’t get taken by the family or sold in a garage sale that I am still fantasizing about will get donated to some agency or other.  But more than that, I am looking forward to a less cluttered existence.


  1. You can not blame me for your old busted loveseat. I haven't lived in your house for more than eleven years, and i haven't been 150 pounds for more than 15. I think you broke those springs and you think it's been long enough that no one will argue with your story.

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