Stuff

This is the summer of the big interior move. The HH and I are tucked away on the first floor, but we have 3 bedrooms upstairs: 2 small ones for the kids and one large one for my stuff, the "sewing" room. We also have a room over the garage with a separate entrance, the "guest" room, which is also full of my stuff. "Hello, my name is Smalltown Mom and I'm a pack rat."

The plan is to move Frank into the room over the garage, and Ernest into the bigger upstairs room with the higher ceiling. He will finally have more than 1 foot of space above his loft bed. Whoo-hoo. And the sewing room and guest room become much smaller. Un-whoo-hoo.

The problem is stuff. Frank said, "I'll just pack up what I want and leave the rest." Huh? Sorry buddy, you've got to pack up what you don't want, too! Anybody want some Star Wars toys?

Ernest's problem will be Lego. Mass quantities of Lego. He likes building the set the first time. After it falls apart, he isn't really interested any more. Anybody want some broken-apart Bionicles?

And me, my problem is everything. Yesterday I purged:
* Cancelled checks from 1996-2000
* Many Stephen King books. They take up too much space. Those are up for grabs, too.
* The makings of snow globes, ala Martha Stewart

But I was unable to purge:
* The wisteria stencils and paints I've never used, because I want use them in the new sewing room.
* The box of duplicate photos. When I opened the box and saw baby Ernest with a runny nose, I knew I could never part with them, even though they are also in an album and I have the negatives.


I know, I know. I have issues.