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Another reason clutter is bad
One thing about church-owned housing... it comes with the job, and it is not necessarily the size of house you would choose for yourself if you had a choice. In my case, this house is a lot bigger than I would have ever bought for myself, especially as I was single when I moved in.
Over the eighteen years I have lived here, I have accumulated stuff. Lots of stuff. When I married, my husband moved his stuff in. Our parents died; we inherited their stuff. And since there was lots of room, we just took it all in.
Is this forming a mental image of too much stuff? Good.
So, now I am retiring in a couple of months, and we will be moving out of the church's house. There is no way we need or want to keep all this stuff, so we have been de-cluttering, discarding, relocating, and packing stuff. There are piles everywhere: garage sale piles, pack and take piles, give away piles, and so forth. And we are getting into seldom-used corners of the house as we do this.
A few days ago, I removed a basket from a high shelf in a closet, and left the basket on the floor while I made decisions about the stuff it contained. This morning I decided to put the now-lighter basket back on that shelf... short chaplain, standing on tip-toe, jamming the basket back on the high shelf. Something came flying off the shelf and hit me.
To be more accurate, it jumped off the shelf, ran down my arm, body, and leg, and back into the closet-- a mouse.
I have had enough of packing for a while!
Over the eighteen years I have lived here, I have accumulated stuff. Lots of stuff. When I married, my husband moved his stuff in. Our parents died; we inherited their stuff. And since there was lots of room, we just took it all in.
Is this forming a mental image of too much stuff? Good.
So, now I am retiring in a couple of months, and we will be moving out of the church's house. There is no way we need or want to keep all this stuff, so we have been de-cluttering, discarding, relocating, and packing stuff. There are piles everywhere: garage sale piles, pack and take piles, give away piles, and so forth. And we are getting into seldom-used corners of the house as we do this.
A few days ago, I removed a basket from a high shelf in a closet, and left the basket on the floor while I made decisions about the stuff it contained. This morning I decided to put the now-lighter basket back on that shelf... short chaplain, standing on tip-toe, jamming the basket back on the high shelf. Something came flying off the shelf and hit me.
To be more accurate, it jumped off the shelf, ran down my arm, body, and leg, and back into the closet-- a mouse.
I have had enough of packing for a while!
Imagine your shock if it was a Mime that jumped out of the basket
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