HE says I have too much stuff. Except he doesn’t exactly call it “stuff”, but a word not suited to a family-friendly column. I don’t agree. My stuff is an interesting and nearly historic collection of antiques and vintage items, books, and old magazines. HE has a closet stuffed full of old golf shirts, and won’t part with any of them, even when I loudly announce that I am making a donation to the veterans’ clothing donation bin. “I’ll get to it”, he says, and never does. He also didn’t want to part with an iron fireplace poker found in the garage, even though we have a whole fireplace set in the living room, so there it will hang for another 10 years. I don’t think he wanted me to touch the “stuff” on his workbench, either, because he just said “I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t complain when I removed the old leaf blower, since for some reason, he bought another, even though this one still worked. The workbench wasn’t cleared off, either, so I covered it with old sheets so people wouldn’t pick through it, but believe me, I was tempted to allow it and offer them a free golf shirt as a bonus! It was a good sale, and I think I got rid of perhaps 2/3 of my things, all of them to good homes. For some strange reason, that is important to me, but being able to let it go in the first place should take me off the Hoarder’s List. I hated to see the stuff go, but it was time. When it was all over but the complaining about my aching back, I sent my last customer home with plenty of free items. A few things went to the fire pit, like a beat-up old wooden picture frame that nobody wanted, even with a “free” sign on it. Books will be given to the hospital volunteers for their fundraiser, and all the rest is boxed up for donation and ready to deliver. Well, almost all the rest. I brought just one item back into the house. Aren’t you proud of me? Just one! It was a large plastic tote, and it wasn’t even full! I’m pretty proud, myself. I’ve created so much extra storage space that HE won’t even notice, not unless YOU tell him.
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