This is a confession and a pledge. I’m a stuffaholic, but I take solace in that I’m not alone. My husband was also a stuffaholic as were my mother and dad. Hmmm, I wonder if there is a genetic factor. Anyway, my pledge is to rid myself of all excess baggage.

I actually don’t have a problem getting rid of garbage, that is, when I can decide if something is really garbage. For example, take cardboard boxes; if the box is too big or too thin, off it goes to recycle, but those boxes perfectly good for storing stuff or shipping gifts to friends and relatives must be stored until needed someday.

Broken tools are also part of the stuff problem. My brain says, that tool can be fixed, so I’ll just store it right here until I can get to it. After all, that rake only needs a handle then it will be perfectly good. That mallet that hurls through the sky like Thor’s hammer can also be fixed. I’ll get to that someday too. What ends up happening is that I go to the store and buy a new rake, shovel, etc. with the idea that as soon as I repair the broken tools, I will donate them to charity. The problem is that the repairs never seem to happen. I’m working on facing these realities, but it’s difficult. I was raised not to be wasteful and to me, throwing away a repairable item is wasteful.

Being a project oriented do-it-yourselfer only makes matters worse. When I resolve to muck out the ever growing pile of stuff, I just know that chunk of 2X4 can be used somewhere as a block. That piece of trim I replaced in the house will end up in the greenhouse I plan on building someday as will that old window, and door. The higher prices go, the worse I get.

To add to my plight, I inherited tons of stuff when my mother and dad died. My dad had parts and tools for just about any project you could imagine. So, what do I do with five large boxes of brand new car parts? I don’t know what kind of car they belong to and there’s nary a clue on the boxes. Dad had Dodges, Fords, and Mercedes and an old Dodge motor home. Someone can surely use those parts, so I’m storing them until I can match the part to a car. Then there’s a slug of really cool looking things that I don’t have the slightest inkling for what purpose they serve. My mom collected antiques. Here’s the problem, some are fakes and some are not. There are way too many to haul to Seattle where the pros are and I don’t have a clue since I’m not an antique buff, so there they sit on the shelf in my garage. Note: I have a three car garage with an office built at one end and it’s packed.

Okay, my mom and dad are gone, my husband passed away in 2005. It’s time to rid myself of all the excess stuff. I know it’s not going to be easy for the reasons I’ve already mentioned, but it has to be done. Everything I keep will be either something I need or actually want. The rest of it goes. It’s costing me way too much time and stress that I don’t have. I’m going to start the ridding process just as soon as I find a cranny in which to store an old pair of work jeans. All they need is a patch on the pocket: it’s an easy repair.