Plus a well-stitched horse head that my older sister made in home economics class sometime in her early teens. Then there are the sentimental items like photo albums, mementos from high school romances, cute candle holders that never seem to work in your current house, a once-fancy Yamaha player for the antique digital media known as “CDs”, several hundred discs written in this format, a translucent skull with a strobe light mounted inside (?), and a wooden devil pitchfork that I made hastily for a 1997 Halloween costume that somehow never gets lost*. We’re already up to one medium-sized box. Why do I still have these? Two pairs of rollerblades (his and hers) have a similar history. I haven’t skated since I left Canada in 1999, so these particular bits of life baggage have tagged along for 15 years and 5 US addresses while never seeing a patch of ice. There’s a pair of underused Men’s hockey skates. How did we end up in this odd position?Ī deeper archaeology of the debris has revealed some useful details. Even now as we try to ruthlessly triage the stuff between sell, donate, recycle and trash bins, the torrent seems unlimited. Storage rooms, closets, and nooks full of it. Despite our best efforts to live a sensible, frugal, and minimalist life over these past eight years, we have somehow still ended up with an absolute shitload of unnecessary crap. The new house, while still sporting plain plywood countertops and missing some frilly extras like doors and trim, is finished enough to sustain life so we decided to make the jump as early as possible.īut the rush to empty and clean the old place while simultaneously compressing our lifestyle by 1000 square feet has been a very revealing exercise. It is finally Moving Week for the Mustache family, and we’re right in the thick of it.
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