Decluttering coming on apace here. I often begin to declutter, then it all becomes a tiny bit tedious far too soon. I have so much stuff, and I never get rid of any of it, just in case. I am going to end up as one of those old ladies who can't get out the house because of huge, teetering piles of mouldering newspapers in the hallway. Besides which, we are doing major, scary renovations this year. Half our house has been ripped up, so all our possessions are in half the house. There is nowhere to put almost anything. Another reason to throw lots away. And I have so much stuff, although I think I already mentioned that. But I am not one of these terrible mindless consumers. Oh no. I do not own acres of expensive plastic crap from department stores. I am an ecologically aware hoarder. I own acres of cheap, irresistible vintage crap from op shops, and books. Oh, the books. And the papers. Every piece of paper that my children have ever written on. Photos. Menus. Tickets from Tram Rides I Have Taken. Pieces of string, because you never know when you might need one. It all really has to go. It is going.
I think our success this week is due to boundaries, and a deadline. Thursday is bedroom cleaning day according to my new cleaning regime. So I am only decluttering bedrooms. And the girls are quite enjoying the challenge, although we have to hide all the 'throw out' bags from the four year old, who suddenly becomes passionately attached to anything she sees heading out the door. It is all going into the back of the stationwagon, and when it is too full to enable me to see out of the back window, we take a trip to the op shop and unload it all. It is very, very cathartic. I feel lighter. I feel more energetic. I may actually be getting thinner. I can see the floor in my bedroom, for the first time in months. Who knew housekeeping could be this exciting?
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