Our old sideboard gave us good service, but it was time for it to go: we bought a new one with a big hutch a few years ago, and shoved it into a corner. Last weekend, I cleared all the stuff out of it (some is visible on top in the photo, waiting for my new plastic box for attic storage of holiday items).
I shopped it around to friends -- no takers. Today, the PTO thrift shop, which is a combined fund-raiser for all the PTOs in town, set the truck for it. They also took a box of glassware and other items that didn't make the cut to be rescued. The tablecloths that were in the middle drawer replaced photo albums in the newer sideboard, while the albums found a home in my desk upstairs, which was also new last year. A couple of bottles of cognac and liqueur are now in the pantry.
Everything seems to start a cascade of rearrangements and give-aways, but somehow it's done.
Our garage has accommodated our unused ancient windsurfers since we gave up our lakeside cottage in 1999. Maybe I shouldn't admit that. This stuff is so obsolete no one wants it.
As of this afternoon, the windsurfers are gone. I hired a trash hauler to come during the same time-window as the PTO truck, so we only had to wait once. The windsurfers' sails were occupying space in the basement -- they are now also gone. The old porch railings (leaning against the garage wall at left) are gone. A lot of unwieldy styrofoam is gone. Two old counter tops are gone -- we never found a way to use them. Len was delighted because the old paint cans are also gone from the basement. The trash hauler/truck driver says "I'm stronger than you think," and that's really true; he carried away some really heavy stuff.
Here's the truck. Besides being strong, the driver can miraculously back into a driveway as narrow as ours:
The sails on their way into the trash truck (paint cans visible to the left) --
Oh! This feels good! Stuff has such a way of insinuating itself into one's life. Decluttering is great.
