Hoarding

We are part the way through setting up Skye's new bedroom, complete with a new King Single bed!!  (We're going to need the cot, and the room beside ours for the new arrival in November).  Now I just need to get some decor happening in there, some block-out blinds and a safety rail for the bed and she'll be ready to move in!

So yesterday I cleared out the wardrobe of her new bedroom (which was previously the ‘spare’ room – commonly thought of as the ‘junk room’) to make way for the move.

This room has been the prime place for storing things that we don’t use often, or don’t know where else to put them. It also contained a double bed for "guests" (except we never have any stay overnight these days), spare TV, golf clubs, extra clothes, Christmas decorations, boxes still unpacked from the last move etc.  Every house I’ve ever lived in has had a room like this, and I just move this junk from one house to the next!

YesterdayI discovered about 7 rolls of wrapping paper in the wardrobe (and yet I could never find any when I needed it!), and I finally came to the conclusion that I have a serious problem with hoarding gift bags. Whenever people give presents in a gift bag, I always save them with the thought that they are so cute, I’ll use that again. And guess what, I never do! So I have dozens of gift bags "saved" for that purpose!

Another sadder realization that I finally admitted to is the fact that I’m a shocking hoarder of anything sentimental from my past. I mean, I knew that I still had these things, but for some reason I couldn’t let them go. I went through bags containing my high school English lecture pad, with stories I’d written as a teenager (I was an aspiring short-story writer back then).  Also, my year 12 student diary and class timetables, with lots of scribbles, notes and jokes inside from friends now long lost. I used to be a member of a theatre group after I finished school, and I’d kept all the old programs of shows that I’d gone to or been involved with – also from those days I’d kept cast newsletters, song lists, scripts, handwritten notes regarding plays that I was in…

I found my old poetry book, where I wrote some pretty good poems (and some pretty bad ones too). And for some reason, I’d kept all my wall calendars from the last 15 years – handy in case I ever wanted to know what date I went to the dentist back in 1998, or what movies I went to see in 2001!!

I also found things from when I was 15 or 16 when I was MAD on the TV shows like The Young Ones and Monty Python movies/series – so I’d written out entire scripts from the skits I liked, along with Monty Python song lyrics… scribbles on paper with lines from Doors or The Cure songs that I listened to at the time etc

I also found my old guitar that I tried to teach myself to play on, when I was about 14!! I keep carting these things from house to house every time we move. I don’t even think about NOT bringing them, because I suppose they are a part of me and my history.

But yesterday I culled about one third of it. I’ve kept the stuff that I just cant even contemplate dumping (and probably wont). I’ve still got a couple of shoe boxes of cards, letters, postcards and photos to go through yet, so I might be getting rid of even more junk soon.

Part of me feels a bit sad at throwing away this “junk”. I know most of it is meaningless, but I suppose its what it represents, rather than what it is. All of these things remind me of certain times, artistic times, or certain friendships. The fact that I haven’t looked at any of these things for years means nothing, its just a part of me.

But another part of me knows that I cant continue to hoard ALL of this stuff for the rest of my life (otherwise I'd need a whole house to store it all!), and I know that it’s a good thing to let some of it go. I have the memories, and that’s what counts.

Luckily I’m not a hoarder of anything else!!

But don’t get me started on my husbands Car Magazine Collection – and he doesn’t see anything wrong with that either!