... heading into the 'home' stretch

I am hopeful that the end is in sight with the house renovations. I have moved boxes from one end of the house to the other, emptied them to re-use, and refilled on several occasions. I have moved them from one closet to another just to try to maintain some semblance of order and clear a path for moving around. I have stacked boxes and bins on top of boxes and bins to have space to walk around in rooms. I have piled stuff in the workshop, moved to the porch, and then into the carport in an attempt to feel organized instead of overwhelmed.

But I am optimistic it is all coming to an end. And one of the really good things I have discovered in all this 'boxing up' process is it gives me not one, but two opportunites to get rid of stuff. (That, according to the hard cold facts of Murphey's Law, I will wish I had immediately after dropping the boxes full of flotsam and jetsam off at the Salvation Army Thrift store.)

Guys are coming on Monday morning to move all the stuff out of the carport so the floor will be pressure washed, and have time to dry while the painter is doing the last bedroom and closet. Then he will turn the dirty, dusty, smelly shabby carport into 'like new' condition with a fresh coat of paint: and I can start trying to figure out for the fortieth time which of the stuff that is boxed and piled up is worthy of returning to the house and what is going into the donations to charity dept.

I am currently trying to decide if having a pristine closet, with Nothing on the shelves is worth having to look at a stack of boxes and storage bins piled, literally, within inches of the celing in another room. I love the lack of clutter in the closet, but find it really difficult to squint hard enough to not notice that tottering stack of plastic bins when I go to bed at night.

A small note for future visitors: Do not bring anything here we cannot eat/consume/otherwise use up, unless you are prepared to take it home with you. Please do not be offended, but think of all the pondering, decisions you are now relieved of: 'a gift-free zone'.