If you collect ANYTHING (not to mention everything), this happens gradually...and far too easily. It doesn't matter how rich or cash-strapped you are, either. The hoarding shows suggest that only poor people are susceptible to this, but the truth is: plenty of rich celebrities have done it, as well. Andy Warhol even kept his old pizza crusts!
The horrible truth: if you let them take over, eventually your possessions will possess YOU. They take up so much space that you must adapt yourself -- or your schedule -- just to live with them.
Yuck.
Don't do it.
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| From dnqsolutions.com, via Pinterest -- go here for an interview with a hoarding expert |
I'm speaking from experience here. Whenever we had a project in-progress, we tended to make a separate 'pile' for the materials. Then when it was finished, sometimes the leftovers were kept out, 'just in case.' Or if it wasn't done yet, then all those materials would stay in view, 'so we don't have to look for them.'
Tools were left out, 'so we know where to find them.' (Ha. They just got buried under other piles, instead.) This included everything from socket wrenches to specialty scissors. When we added a trailer to our lives, that meant an extra set of tools, as well.
Fabric and embellishments were left out, 'so they'll be ready for the next gig.' Sometimes I didn't even unpack the suitcase from the last gig, so those items would be ready next time...whether I used them or not.
My profession as a writer -- books, articles, blogposts -- didn't help, either. I needed plenty of other books for research, plus photocopies, permissions, postcards, etc. Each book (and I've published 7, so far) has had its own treasure trove of items...and what if my sources were questioned? I needed to keep my research, just in case.
The other struggle was paperwork. When you appraise, your workfile must include notes, 'comps,' (comparable values on similar items you use to justify your value estimates), photos and all sorts of useful stuff. And you must keep those items for SEVEN YEARS. When I do hundreds of appraisals each year -- and I do -- this adds up.
Now add in the rest of flotsam and jetsam needed for normal living, as well as the junk mail, groceries, personal items, gifts, DVDs (a big one for us, especially), Christmas and other holiday items, etc. Don't forget dog collars, dogfood and dishes, as well as hunting gear and other hobbies. Don't forget books: they've been important to me since I started reading, at about two years old. (Really. Ask The Mama.) We owned literally thousands of books, stacked and overflowing on hall, office and library bookcases, as well as throughout the house.
Then there's the business: Brickworks has been part of our life since 1984. Inventory is a big addition, but so are items planned for future shopping carts, classes and conferences. This also includes some damaged items from a flood we had years ago, and I couldn't bear to throw away, as well as a few things I didn't know what to do with anymore.
And finally, don't forget our other family members: the girlies. Their old books, games, dolls and other toys --including American Girls and Barbies they hadn't played with for at least two decades. These were all stuffed into their old rooms, topped with a generous layer of markers, papers, magazines and such. (Who couldn't use a stack of decade-old Vogues, right?) Plus spiders, dead flies and other undesirables.
What a mess.
After 22+ years, the time we've lived at 3700 Collins St., what started out as messy went way past that into horrendous. Parts of it (like the dining room table) got regularly cleaned up. Whatever I could put aside for 'later,' however, often did just that.
When we decided to move from a 3700+ foot house into a 32-foot fifth wheel trailer, this seemingly endless merry-go-round Had. To. Stop.
HERE'S WHAT WE DID.
*We stopped purchasing anything but absolute essentials. This was harder than I'd thought. I'd gotten used to buying items on sale and 'stocking up.' An average grocery run might include a dozen cans of green beans, or industrial-sized bags of tortilla chips. Instead, we bought milk and eggs -- and not much more.
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| Chocolate chip cookies -- essential. |
*I didn't go to stores. The thrift shop, a regular swing-by, kept its doors closed to me for months. Sam's Club? Wal-Mart? Even my beloved Friday/Saturday store? Only if it was essential. (And usually it wasn't.)
*We gave the girls their choice: furniture, quilts, family heirlooms, food items. Whatever they didn't take was re-analyzed and assigned for other spots.
*Paperwork was cleared out. Anything older than 7 years, except for tax returns, was shredded or burned. (And why in the world did we keep all those old catalogs and newsletters, to begin with?) Research files were purged, and workfiles condensed. Instead of paper copies, appraisals were kept on our server, with duplicate copies in the cloud. Our passports and other official documents went into our security box.
*We packed. And packed. And packed. But only if:
--It could be used in our new home, the trailer
--It was needed for repairs on said trailer and our truck
--It was important for hunting and other parts of our life
--It was important for the few lectures or classes I'd decided to keep teaching
--It was needed for study for appraising or future work
--It couldn't be borrowed from another source (like the library)
*Storage let us keep some items for the future. This included some furniture, a few chairs, books I couldn't part with yet (or needed for future writing) and inventory for Brickworks. However, we were limited to what we could fit into the horse trailer we borrowed from friends. And we had to haul that trailer to Michigan, where the storage space was.
*Donations. The Rocky Mountain Quilt Museum got 25+ bags of quilts, quilt tops, books and tools. A appraiser friend took nearly all of my quilt study books. The Vietnam Vets (who pick up) took literally dozens of bags of clothes, kitchen stuff, appliances and small furniture. (In fact, they'll be stopping by again next week, after we clear out the garage.) Habitat for Humanity took most of the bookcases, and a surprising number of paintings and prints. We made runs to Goodwill, and my own favorite spot, Treasures on Park Street.
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| Didn't matter -- with only a few exceptions, they had to go. |
*Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace, plus moving sales. We sold more than $600 worth of everything from wheelbarrows to chests of drawers to fabric yardage. The hardest part, surprisingly, was watching people pick through our stuff, then walk away. ("What -- our things aren't good enough for you??")
*We gave stuff away. Friends and neighbors took cedarposts (leftover from enclosing the chickenyard), quilts and some furniture, as well as oil lamps. (You never know...) Our popup camper, veteran of a dozen years of camping and hunting, went to a guy who planned to refurbish it for more trips.
*Then the final stop: the dumpster. We hired Drew and his team to clear the house out, room by room. After the Brick and I removed items we knew we'd keep, we would step aside and let the guys do their job. They reserved some items I'd missed, like old postcards and a box of South African indigoes. Otherwise, load after load went out until the room was empty.
Four dumpsters' worth.
Granted, a lot of the dumpster contents were damaged or dirty.They were too old or obsolete. These should have been discarded months -- or years -- ago. (A lot of renovation discards were in there, too, with a generous sprinkling of old tires, ancient drywall and even some contributions from neighbors.)
Some of it (fabric, especially) I would have kept, if we'd had room. (In fact, I climbed around in the piles -- something Drew teasingly only let me do once or twice.)
Here's the surprise.
Getting rid of All This Stuff (with a few exceptions) wasn't nearly as hard as imagined. I'd already pulled the essentials, and the girlies had chosen what they wanted to keep. I didn't have to sort through the rest, or try to figure out where to put things. It was all done-- by someone else.
Whew.
Did it cost, to hire the guys and arrange for the dumpster? Of course. Were things donated, sold, given away or discarded that we should have kept? Yep. Could we have done this process ourselves? Yes...but we both admitted that we would have had to read through every book, check every item, etc. etc., until we drove ourselves crazy. This way, it was taken care of for us.
If you're thinking about moving, why not try this now? You won't have nearly the hassle of clearing out the house, once you actively begin the process. If you can't afford the demolition guys, try 'hiring' a friend or relative to do it for you. They'll be much faster and far more efficient.
And it will be DONE. Finished. Cleared out
That, in itself, is an incredible relief.
Then you can concentrate on what's most important: actually living.
Or in our case: cleaning and getting the house ready for sale.
What's it like now? Take a look.
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