Another 4.5 cubic metre skip filled to overflowing with the detritus of my past life. Mine and my girls’. Take it away please. Stuff we don’t use, stuff we never needed in the first place, stuff that would probably have come in handy some time, and stuff that is just a reminder of past times. Stuff I don’t even remember having in the first place. Plus rubbish. Quite a lot of rubbish.
I hate having to throw away the stories my girls wrote and the pictures they drew when they were small. The cards and the little things they made me over the years. I hate that they have to dispose of things they collected that were meaningful to them for whatever reason. Most of all I hate the reason we have to do it. I believe we would have had to do exactly this eventually anyway as we moved on, but it would have been different had it all been precipitated by an exciting move to a better home and new lifestyle somewhere. maybe even if we knew where we were going. If it had been a reasoned decision we had made.
All the real rubbish and unsaleable stuff is gone. There is still a lot we have to pack and store, such as necessary items of furniture, crockery and cutlery, pictures and paintings, and probably there will be a little more yet to sell or toss out or give to the Sallies.
On the positive side, it is good to feel just a little unencumbered. With options, albeit limited, for now…
I try to console myself with the words (I think) of Robert Heinlein:
A man is a slave who cannot abandon his possessions at need.
I am still a little enslaved. Some things I cannot abandon. I don’t see the need. Yet.