I have a theory that we should all move every three or four years. Oh sure, it’s nostalgic to think of how your parents bought their house when they were married and raised a family there. Forty years of birthdays, Christmases, and family memories all took place in that beloved family home.
I cleared out my family home after my parents passed. It took two of us several weeks to clear out the detritus of our little family. Suitcases, pots and pans, power tools…what to do with it all? Furniture, snow shovels, ladders…do I need any of it?
I fretted. I cried. I didn’t know what to do.
If anyone came to the house to see how I was doing, I often sent them home with lovely parting gifts: a pair of upholstered chairs, flatware… and hey! take the snow blower!
So I thought I had winnowed it out but it took a full-sized moving van to take everything to storage, where I paid more money than any of it was worth to store it for a few years. Anything of value — like the Roseville pottery — was missing when I went back to claim them. My guess is that the movers who packed up the house knew exactly where everything was and just helped themselves to it, but how do I prove that?
When I moved to New England, along came the contents of the storage locker. Eventually, I did get rid of most of it (and, oh, how good it feels when it gets carted out your door!)
So now guess what? I still have too much and it’s all MY stuff: cross-country skis, a dog crate, coffee mugs and extra sets of dishes, interior window shutters that never really fit the windows, a vacuum cleaner, outdoor furniture…you get the picture.
Oh, yes, speaking of pictures: there are picture frames, hardware, hand tools.
Old technology? We have SLR cameras, LPs, cassette tapes. And computer stuff! Old printers, computer bags, and orphaned cables and chargers that don’t seem to fit anything I own.
So, if you’re in the neighborhood, come to the yard sale. Come early! Cash only!
Very motivated seller!