You Can Never Too Thin, Too Rich, Too Busy.
Mmmmbop,fashion---->
Top of Gingerday to you. Another Friday, another start to my second hoochless weekend. What in the name of marmalade am I going to do to fill in the time normally spent slinging back glasses of red wine and rum. I admit I have replaced Friday's winefest with eating a chili burger so hot it makes my eyebrow twitch, but what of Satdee and Sunday ( these are the legitimate concerns of the new non drinker, it's not the non-drinking, it's the what to do with yourself while non-drinking)
Oh right, that's where the spare room come in.
I don't know how it is in other people's homes-I'm sure you're all near spartan- but in this home every unopened cardboard box, every piece of spare crap, every unworn jacket from eight seasons ago, every unused tool, every vitally important supermarket receipt from 2001, every piece of furniture that doesn't quite fit, well, it's all in the spare room, a room so packed with clutter and assorted crap it's impossible to open the blasted door now without something collapsing Jenga like somewhere inside.
So, to this end we- yes we- have decided to do something about it. We've decided to tackle it, sort it out, turn it from Stig's Dump into a spare room again. We are moving a lot of the crap into the attic. Oh yes. This will probably take care of another weekend sometimes in the future when we decide to clear out the attic. Eventually we might just move some of the crap to where it actually belongs, a dump far far away from the house.
Eventually.
Labels: What to do with these hands.
posted by fatmammycat at 10:07 a.m.
32 Comments:
"we"
Oh yeah? That sounds like a royal 'we' to me.
You should see the shed hereabouts, actually nobody should see the shed hereabouts.
The Drumm Hoochometer reads: 1 lge glass of rouge this week.
That photo is actually mildly frightening!
Don't hoard, noooo. I come from a family of hoarders. All of our houses are full of stuff, crap, bloody ESB bills from the 80's was one of the last things I witnessed my Dad shredding. Seriously, from the 1980's!!
Tables, chairs, a shed full of shite, shite from my dead relatives houses that no one else would take and so we took it.
I told them (my parents) to sort it out with a skip because I am not taking care of it when they are not able, or when they are gone. They got one skip. Filled it. Turns out they need about 10 skips.
I found the chassis from my pram in the shed a while ago, I am 25, its been there maybe 22 years. For NO reason. If in doubt f*ck it out.
yup, my parents are hoarders too.
My mam just collects shite, and when the it fills the house my dad has his own factory which is slowly filling it's massive rooms with dead fridges and ancient stereos.
I think i must have contracted the disease too, i only recently threw out my commodore 64 . . . sob...
Morgor before I went travelling I knew I had to clear my "shite" out of the house which I was renting with my friend. He had one bag of shite, I had 8 bin bags full to the top of shite. I have tried to turn over a new leaf, it's not really working.
Also clothes are a big downfall for me, it comes from basically being the same size (all over) since I was 11, yes, 11, so I still have jeans and that from then, most of the really fally aparty stuff was thrown out but I still kept onto some of it, just in case. Just in case what though, in case all my other clothes somehow disappear? It's ridiculous at this stage.
My sister is the only one who sort of looks like she doesn't hoard, until you look in the spare room, or any drawer or press that doesn't contain food -full of shite.
That's one more than me Conan, but I see your point from t'other day.
Morgor and Babsm suffice to say it is NOT me who is the giant hoarder, but Spongebob, I mean The paramour. He can't throw shit away. I'm of the opinion that it it hadn't been worn for a a year it ought to go to the recyling bin, but not he. I envy Country Gay with his clean lines and neat presses. Even his garden shed is neat.
Why would they keep the chassis of your pram...
And WHILE I'm telling tails on him, he frequently gets pains and aches in his back while driving becasue of the size of his George Costanza-esque wallet, filled as it is with 'vital' receipts and cards and bits of paper. I swear, sometimes he drive tilted.
The Paramour has the right of it, you never know what's important until after you've thrown it away.
I suggest you go outside, see if you can find that shed, open it, and then come back inside and repeat that.
Hoarders! Will never understand that. Watched a lot of "How Clean is Your House" over the holiday break and nearly threw up a couple of times. That one big lady who'd had the stroke? With the three dogs? JEEBUS!!!
Princess here likes empty space. Clean, empty, gleaming space. And I make it happen.
Happy Friday, one and all. I'm also hoochless this week. Also eating like a rabbit (sorry). Up before the alarm two days in a row now. This may not last...
I'll have you know the shed is a warehouse... no a REPOSITRY for a future Fleabay enterprise which will sell fine and rare old folderols, geegaws and knicknacks to people who appreciate such things.
Can I still technically be hooch-free if I get free hooch tonight?
I promise I'll start training again next week. Double promise.
Huh. I wonder if those are implants.
Of all the terrifying things about parenthood, what scares me the most is all the stuff. My deep aversion to stuff developed soon after we got married and found ourselves waist-deep in gifts we hadn't anticipated and certainly didn't want, and though it took me a couple years to be okay with the idea of yard-saling or donating it, getting rid of stuff has become one of my life's missions. It's gotten so that visible clutter makes me feel crazy.
I can see how having plenty of clothes will come in handy (babies still poop, right?) but the toys and accessories that are surely coming our way from well-intentioned aunts and grandmothers...my God, the toys and accessories.
Big ups to the non-hoochers! May your sleeps be deep and uneventful (Sheepie I want a sworn affidavit that Monday is D Day)
Grims, you're screwed, birth, every birthday, every visit, every Christmas, every occasion going, you are going to landed with odd gifts and unsuitable clothing. My sister almost lost her reason with her first child when she was given satin dresses and all manner of hdieous outfits, that she then felt obliged to dress the poor wee thing in. There's nothing you can do I am afraid, 'cept maybe ask Conan for his address. He had a repository you see.
I was listening this morning to Jeremy Vine's programme and two people recently have died as a result of clutter in their house.
There clearly is a kind of mental illness which makes some people unable to ever throw anything away combined with endless collecting of clutter. It's something I'm always fighting against - with a certain amount of opposition from my husband.
I'm sure yours is the normal collection but applaud any decluttering.
The clutter bugs seems to be most prevalent amongst people who were around in WW2.
Aye Pat, some woman died after boxes fell on her and another chap got 'lost' among the warren of junk he kept in his home and died of thirst. Madness.
I always think a good clear out is beneficial, relaxing in some way.
Right, kickboxing. Then a hot hot Jalapeno laden burger. Nom nom.
FMC, one of the good things about moving so frequently is that I could toss shit and then say "oh, honey, the movers must have lost that ugly shirt of yours."
Grims, I was talked into a yard sale once, and I'd never do it again. I can't bear someone haggling me down to one dollar from three for something I liked. I wanted to turn the hose on the crowd and be done with it.
Ah now I rcognise yer wan in the picture... it's the missing female 'Hero Turtle', Donatella.
Medbh, I'm still split on yard sales--on the one hand, I love getting rid of stuff I don't need and ending the day with enough cash to go out to dinner. On the other hand, the hagglers, my God, the hagglers. And then there's the problem of knowing you sold your stuff to the kind of people who end up dying under the pile of junk stacked floor to ceiling...
Take it out back and set a match to it you say? I like your thinking Medbh.
FMC - I have NO idea why they would keep the chassis of my pram, just in case?? Like ALL the other crap that is clogging up the shed, basically my dad is of the like father like son variety, when my Granddad - his Dad, died 4 years ago we had the job of clearing the shed, it took about a week, no joking, and where did all the shite go? To my Dad's shed, its like a vicious circle at this stage.
He has tins of old screws and drill bits and lawnmowers, broken toasters, etc etc. It's ridiculous!
I am guilty of the essential receipts crime! Soz!
Grimsaburger - When my sisters daughter was inundated with Xmas and Birthday presents last year and this, she recycled most of the presents by giving them to charity, or wrapping them up again and giving them to other kids for birthdays during the year, sounds sort of mean, but the small child was practically wading through toys in her (giant) playroom it was ridiculous!
When i first moved in with the ProbHub, he had paprika in his cupboard that was older than I was. I'm not kidding.
Good luck with the decluttering, hun! Personally, I wouldn't go near it til I was already 2 wines in.
Torch the lot and be done with it.You get the matches and I'll bring the petrol.
Why happy new year FMC and people! Hmmm hoarding. I'm terrible at pieces of paper with words written on them, otherwise known as letters.
Just.Can't.Seem.To.Throw.Them.Out.
So it's quite good they're still cluttering my parents' house and not mine. I still have letters my mother wrote to me when I was at boarding school. (If she knew what was in those boxes I am confident she would torch them).
She still has all my childhood books, except last heard she was shipping them off to a school in Africa. Not sure what they'll make of Nancy Drew but, hey, it's the thought that counts.
Well one way or antother it's being tackled today (Satdee) Wish me luck. If I don't return I've turned right where a left might have sufficed and been crushed by a box of yellowed paperbacks.
For verily it is written: "Thou shalt never throw out yellowed paperbacks."
My spare room is my non drinking project too! I just haven't actually done anything yet and i've been not drinking for a week. I'm planning on being hit by motivation this evening.
Well done Elie, eventually we'll see space and our livers will thank us.
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