Sunday, March 30, 2008

We will be closing on our new house in about a week. Try as I might, I cannot seem to get motivated or excited enough to get my packing done. I mean, a week?!?!?! Talk about procrastination. I think I am halted by all the massive amounts of stuff I have aquired in the last 12 years. I mean seriously, who really NEEDS 4 complete sets of silverware or 24 white stoneware salad bowls?? Not to mention 8 rubbermaid totes of fabric. Large totes. Really large totes. Garage sale here it comes. Not my fabric though. No, that stays with me. I have found some interesting things while doing what minimal packing I have done. I have comprised a list.

1. The cat toy that I bought for my cat when she was a kitten. It was hidden in the darkest corner of the hall closet. It was the cutest little fabric ball that crinkled when she batted it around. Now it looks like a big fat dust moozie that even my moozie mop refused to touch. Did I mention that my cat is 3 years old?

2. The Christmas tablecloth I could not find this past holiday. Yep. There it was. All folded nicely, wrapped in tissue paper, neatly tucked away in the drawer of my china cabinet. Hey, in my defense, it was on the bottom, and it was covered with tissue paper.

3. Five sets, (count them....5!) one a duplicate, of those cute little cheeseball knife/ server thingamajiggys. The question that comes to mind is WHY? I had no idea I had more than one set. Each set is a set of 4. That makes 20 little knife thingamajiggys. If I had that many cheese balls or that many people in my house at once, I am either being raided or dead.

4. The birth certificate to my son's cabbage patch doll. It was in among some photos that are filed away in one of those fabulously cute photo storage boxes. Yep. He was really inventive with his name too. Robert Allen. He gave his doll his middle name. Funny......he is now 24 years old. And he did the same thing with my grandson. Gave him his middle name. And yes, I still have Robert Allen. Kaleb Allen will have him in his possession in about a year.

5. My 17 year old son's Do Do. That is pronounced with a long 0 sound. Not as in poo poo. My son would have a fit. Do Do is, or was, a bright neon green dinosaur that let out the most tortured noise when squeezed. Sounds like a cat with bad gas being squeezed around the middle. Do Do was my son's constant companion. Do Do was my peace at night. When I heard him let out that awful wail, I knew my little boy had rolled over in his sleep, I could rest assured my son was moving and still alive.

6. A package of Barbie doll shoes I bought and put back for my neice when she got older. She is older now. Not a bit intersted in Barbies either I imagine.

7. 3 packages of straight pins. I dont know. Don't ask.

8. A slightly rusty cast iron skillet that I had good intentions of fixing one day. I would. But I am not sure how.

9. More fabric.

10. Clipped and scribbled recipes. TONS of them. Years worth. Was gonna organize those in a notebook one day. I dont think that day will ever come.

I am sure as I progress, there will be lots of other things I can add to this list. Will it ever end??? At this point, I don't think so.


1 comment:

Kathy said...

Oh, I feel for you! I am constantly purging and still, too much stuff. Oh, by the way, my dad's name is Robert Allen. Thinking of him as a cabbage patch doll is way more than amusing :)