The Basement

It has been nearly a month since we moved into our new home, but the old one is still not completely cleaned out.  Today I worked on the basement.  In preparation for the move, I had taken a couple of prior passes through the dingy, dirty dungeon, but over 30 years of clutter is just not that easy to wade through.


The endeavor was physically exhausting.  The sorting and cleaning process raised so much dust that I wore a mask.... into which I kept sneezing.  Yuk.  Heavy items needing to be moved in order to get at other items were in abundance.


The process was also mentally exhausting.  Too many questions needed to be answered.
Why did my husband remove some of those tools from the rummage sale pile and keep them?
How many electric drills and levels does one person need?
What environmentally friendly means I am to use to get rid of all this old paint?
How many times did I buy sandpaper, instead of using up what was already there?
Do I need to feel guilty about throwing out two file drawers of woodworking magazines and patterns that belonged to my departed father?
Should I sell the pump organ?  Is there any real possibility that I will ever restore it?
Yes, I have a pool table to sell, but where are all the balls?
How many different kinds of nails are there anyway?  And, why are they always in disintegrating brown paper sacks?
And..
Why, oh why, did my dear dad save old toilet seats?  Did he think he would someday need to construct an outhouse?  Was he planning to use them as picture frames?


Eventually, I was on overload and had to come home, take a shower and put the heating pad on my back.  Sadly, the job isn't finished yet.