Putting my house in order

Normal people use their time off from work going to their favorite vacation destination.

The 7MSN is my favorite vacation destination, so if I spend my time off at home,

that makes me normal, right?

I take most of my vacation time in one-day increments, usually in the summer on Fridays.

Think three months of three-day weekends. This summer, compelled

by a need to have something to show for all this time off,

as well as a need to unburden myself of way too much accumulated stuff,

I've embarked on a room by room, closet by closet, drawer by drawer house purge.

It's long overdue. This October will mark eleven years of living in the same place.

I try to move at least every ten years if for no other reason than to declutter.

Since I'm not planning to leave here for at least five years (a subject for another time),

I thought it best to declutter in place.

 Happiness is a clean closet.

 I don't subscribe to any one theory of tidying up 

and tend to apply whichever one works in the moment.

"When in doubt, throw it out" works particularly well when I'm being indecisive.

"Discard everything that does not spark joy" is helpful,

but do I really want to toss my mortgage papers 

just because they're not particularly joyful? I think not.

Not counting the garage, I'm about a third of the way through the great purge of 2016.

(The garage will require the rental of a bulldozer, a dumpster and an entire summer off.)

The process has been liberating, and the house already feels like it has lost weight.

I'm stacking all the stuff I will donate in the guestroom for now. 

My next houseguests arrive in November, so I've got the incentive to wrap this up by then.

 I must admit, some things are harder to let go of than others, but since I haven't repurposed

these worn-out boots into a Pinterest project yet, what makes me think I ever will?

Thanks for the memories, first pair of western boots ever. I will miss you...

but not enough to keep you hanging around in my closet collecting dust.

Farewell, ruby slippers. I only wore you once, 23 years ago,

but I'm willing to take the chance I will never need you again.

(But I do love what you do to Smooch's nose.)

 Smooch: I'm liking the looks of this. Guests must be coming.