For many months, I have been trying to find the strength of will to do a major closet cleanout. There were things tucked in the recesses of that closet when we first moved into this house nine years ago that have no business taking up real estate in my room. Unfortunately the one large thing I had in mind to banish to the garage was the very last thing next to the wall, in the deepest corner. I persevered, and got it out and moved from the room. I also discovered a box that was Mr S-P's dresser junk from 2015. I presented him with that when he got home from the river with the kids, and made it his problem, not mine.
I completely unloaded all of my clothes onto the bed, and made myself really consider each item before I hung it back up. Wow did a lot go in the donation bin. I rearranged a few things, for ease of access, while maintaining my customary organizational scheme. (You all line your shirts up facing the same direction and in rainbow order, right? No? Just me?) I am pleased with my hard choices about what hasn't been worn in years and what just doesn't fit either my body as it currently exists or my fashion-slash-comfort ideals. But now I find myself with a surplus of hangers. Too bad they don't take those at the thrift stores.
When I painted the dining room and tidied my plant shelves, I realized I finally had a safe place to display a fragile piece of family history. My mother's cousin, who died tragically in the mid to late 80s, used to create bell jars with butterflies on a static display. I'm really not sure how to describe that. It's one art medium for which I have a limited vocabulary. I got one of them when we sold the house I grew up in, and then I got another when we cleared out my great aunt's assisted living room after her death. (The artist was her son.) I had them carefully packed away when we moved here, and I never had a good place to put them until now. I may adjust their placement a little, until I'm really happy about it, but at least they are out again. They weren't doing anyone any good wrapped up in a box with a bunch of my pajamas and accessories (several of which went in the donation bin).
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