The Crankee Yankee and I live in a small two-story house. In fact, it is the house in which he and his brother and parents lived when he was a boy. When we moved into it in 2007, there was a lot to be done.
Ten years later, there is still a lot to be done, but the Crankee Yankee has done a masterful job of renovating, restoring and resurrecting the house, inside and out. His brother has been a huge help in all this, and slowly but surely the house is getting its long-awaited make-over.
However, it’s still a small house. We have stuff from his parents and now my parents, a lot of which is in storage. Mind you, we have already given away loads of stuff to friends, and donated lots of sheets, blankets and towels to our local animal shelter. But there are all those oddments that really fit—nowhere.
We have scrapbooks we want to keep; this along with our living room shelves which are full to bursting with books; also files, furniture, kitchen stuff, etc. I had no idea that Mom was so crazy about things like a water purifier jug, two immersible blenders, a salad spinner (actually pretty useful), the fruit-infuser with its own jug (so that you can enjoy watermelon/cucumber/lemon/lime/strawberry/melon water) and so on.
I also found more flower vases than any one person needs; how did I not know about this passion of hers? Then there is the portable massager you put in a chair and lean back into (which Mom always called “Steve”), the foot bath, the radiant heat lamp, and so on.
Some of Mom’s and Dad’s furniture (in storage) will be great for our upstairs once it is finished, and we are already using some of their tables and chairs. Dad’s ratty old recliner now sits on our back porch, cat-clawed to a fare-thee-well.
We have stacks of stuff with no place to house them, and our three tiny closets are packed full. Fortunately there will be four closets upstairs where we can finally put excess clothing, bedding, towels, etc.
We have been paring down, but find ourselves in that awkward position where you have to decide whether something is useful, necessary, or just sentimental. Ah well, it isn’t like we have to organize everything all at once. So far I feel that we are organized just enough to not fall into hoarder-ish territory.
But we definitely are in blivet territory.
*Blivet: ten pounds of crap in a five pound container.