Months ago I had plans to clean up the basement by taking part in an block-wide alley sale. I had visions of getting rid of all the "stuff" that's accumulated in the basement that we haven't looked at in years. The sale never came off--not enough neighbors were interested. But the problem is that I'd already put a lot of big stuff out in the garage (which we aren't using right now) so if I want to use the garage in winter I've either got to have a garage sale soon myself or drag the big items back into the basement.
So today I went downstairs to look around and found this box, one that we packed after my Mother died 20-some years ago. I was surprised to see the playbook for "Tartuffe," but then realized it was a play my brother had been in sometime in the 70's. Well, I can't throw that away. And then there was a book of poems by Robert Frost. I think that was the first book of poems I'd ever paid for with my own money. That I'll take upstairs.
Then I surveyed more books piled up and I realized the problem is just too much attachment. With many of these books we're touched by something wonderful in them and can't bear to throw them away. And to make room for the books we want to read now, we move them to the basement.
Then, as if she'd been channelling my thoughts, my friend Jane sent me her latest gardening creation. What a great solution!
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