I need to have a garage sale. I desperately need to have a garage sale. Somewhere along the line I was designated the keeper of things in our family. Probably because I am the only one who is not a pack rat and I have the room. I don’t anymore.
Sure I have hung onto my roller skates and my vinyl records even though I don’t have a turntable anymore but other than photographs I don’t keep stuff. We go through our drawers, the kids drawers, and donate anything that doesn’t fit to Goodwill. Okay, I have a pair of clam diggers from 1981, and they don’t fit, but they are cute and I keep thinking one day I will be able to fit into them again.
My father was the king of all pack rats. And having one barometer/pen holder wasn’t enough, he had to have three. If one of anything was good having many many more was much better. My father lived in a big house however and had the room to store all his crap. I don’t but somehow all this shit ended up in my garage.
I have photographs. Boxes and boxes of photographs. I have the old metal plates used for photographs. Slides, gobs of negatives, you name it. I have been trying to go through them for the last few evenings. I have decided that if I can identify the people in the pictures I will keep them. If there is simply a family resemblance they get tossed. No on in my family has ever bothered to take a pen to the back of a photograph and jot down who is in the picture, where it might have been taken and what decade or even century it was snapped. So unless the people who resemble me are standing with Abe Lincoln or building the Chrysler building I’m pitching them.
I have architectural plans from houses we lived in in the 60’s and seventies, I have more diplomas than I know what to do with. I can’t throw those away I realize but I don’t have a clue what to do with them except box them up and let my kids deal with them. I have explained to my son that when he gets any of the crap that I feel too guilty about throwing away that he must not succumb to the guilt. Right here and right now he is allowed to throw anything away that he ends up with. Unless of course it his or his sisters hospital wrist bands, he must keep those.
While I was going through these boxes I came across cards I had made for my mom and dad as a child. Surprisingly my penmanship was pretty good. I couldn’t spell worth a damn but my handwriting was legible. Now it’s the other way around. I can spell but I can’t even read my own handwriting. I’m saving those too.
I found a picture of my brother and me hugging each other. I’m keeping that one just to prove that we once liked each other. Because it is his fault that all this crap is in my garage.
I have a spare room and two outbuildings to sort through! Yuk! Maybe I will find some nice things like you did.
the male person is the pack rat and the publicist would just throw it all out. Makes for some interesting “discussions” around the trailer. She refuses to move any of the crap into the house ans they have hauled it around the country for 7 years now and he doesn’t know what he has so how does he freakin’ know he needs it?! huh huh?
sorry, rant over.
Lizzie, sometimes it can be like Christmas, unwrapping boxes of things that had been forgotten.
Pricilla, if he doesn’t know what he has he won’t miss it if the publicist throws it out….
I swear I was just thinking that I need to have a yard sale so I can clear out all of this junk and get more junk.
Darn, wish I had seen this post before I went out and mowed the lawn. I would have gone in the shed and started going through boxes. (Now my back is done for, so there’s no going out there now.) I want to try to find my childhood photos (I think the exhb stole them, but there is a chance that a friend who was helping me pack and purge boxed them up for me. I hope so, otherwise I only have 3 photos of my parents and my school pictures.
If tomorrow is nice like today, I’ll go in search of.
lol, purge purge purge. 😀
Might I suggest a bonfire/weenie roast? I’ll send marshmellows!
See, I am in 100% support of garage sales but look what happens when you start to go thru the stuff. You take a nice stroll down memory lane and then bam, you can’t part with it. It’s a vicious cycle.
Computers ruined everyone’s handwriting.
“They” say misery loves company, but reading about how much you are like my wife and her mother (who lives with us) is not making me any less miserable. FOR I AM STILL STUCK IN A SMALL HOUSE FULL OF THEIR JUNK!!!
No, none of my stuff applies. For it is all very valuable–certainly not junk.
I guess I don’t have too much junk….hehe When I got divorced I only took exactly what I wanted.. and what’s really cool.. is I can still go back for whatever I forgot!! Can’t beat that!! Good luck….
Definitely keep them. Those clams are not going to dig themselves.
Obviously, you are as good at scrapbooking as I am.
People often are surprised when I tell them that I have absolutely no interest in keeping memorabilia.
But I prefer to live in the moment. So All my memories are either in the garage or in the trash.
Hey Jen. I wrote a recent post about all the weird stuff in my parents’ house. Talk about pack rats… http://bit.ly/pQQE5
Shawn (www.guttersnipenews.com, lavalife.com)
I have the detritus from dead people’s homes cluttering the upstairs of my house. It’s very aggravating, and I need to get ruthless with it.
I’m with you. I need to have a garage sale, too. I had decided I didn’t have time to have garage sales and I would donate to Goodwill. Now, we’re having to take three weeks unpaid at work this summer, so I’m thinking a garage sale might not be a bad idea. Most of the crap we have is Mom’s, so hopefully we can convince her to part with some of it.
Anything is preferable to paying a monthly fee for a storage unit. I will never succumb to that expense to house a bunch of junk that I really don’t need.