Newsflash! There’s carpet on the floor of the storage room. Before the clean-up began I
wasn’t sure. You couldn’t see the floor. You couldn’t even stand in there. It was like the game of Jenga, move one thing and it will all tumble.
Clean-up still in progress…yesterday, an eight-inch stack of papers, through the shredder!
In good moments I feel ruthless and virtuous about getting rid of stuff, but some things are harder. Like for example:
I’ve got a ton of books. Mostly I love my books. They are a history of my reading and my life. I love loaning them out. I have sometimes use them as filing cabinets. Come across an article “57 Fun things to do in Paris”…I’ll tear it out and an slip it into my book on Paris.
But ENOUGH already. When I moved three times ago, one weary mover was tired of all the schlepping—book boxes are smaller than regular boxes since books are so heavy—turned to me and said, of all of my books: “Doctor? Lawyer? Or Teacher?”
So I had a book swap party. Boxes of books on the dining table…old bestsellers, novels the girls needed from school, the books I bought 10 years ago and never read. Truly, boxes of books.
A bunch of friends over for give and take. It was really fun. I promised to donate any leftovers. A good excuse for a get together, my books are being adopted to good homes. And I showed enormous restraint, only took one book.
The Sex Lives of Cannibals. How can you resist a title like that?