I'M CHANGING

 

The decluttering and tidying is on-going. We at The Curmudgeons Inc.ⓒ have no time for mere lawn mowing like that old guy down south. Ptooey!

I loaded up the trailer for the tip run and then took the trailer to VTNZ for a warrant of fitness. All good - the rewiring job I did a year ago is still holding up.

I then went to Placemakers and bought some Dricon Pavelock which is a kind of fine sand and cement mix for spreading over brickwork to lock the bricks in place. I'll broom this over the 'courtyard' when there's a guarantee of 3 consecutive fine days and no rain.

The changes I refer to in the post title is that I've always been a hoarder and have found it very hard to get rid of anything unless it's totally munted. The Old Girl is the opposite. She has always found it easy to divest herself of things that she hasn't used for a few months. The differences in upbringing I guess. In Scotland the apartments and houses there rarely have storage sheds, cupboards and garages to keep junk in.

This decluttering exercise has shown a change in me. I've found that, knowing we will be going to smaller premises, I've had to evaluate everything we possess and allocate to 'keep', 'giveaway', 'sell' or 'junk' categories. At first I agonised over the categorisation but have since found it easier with today, freely biffing stuff into the trailer that in the past I would have kept as treasures.

I guess I've learned recently that my treasures are not many other people's treasures. It's hard to sell or even give away stuff nowadays as we've become a throwaway society. I've found that often, using Trade Me or Facebook for selling is a pointless exercise and even Freestuff (part of Facebook/Neighbourly) just brings along very picky people. The Op shops are proving to be a no go complaining that they are already overstocked with most things. This then leaves the tip. As I said I almost emptied the basement, the shed and many cupboards of remains computer gear, ornaments, stationery items, some old tools, bric a brac, timber, shelving and paintings. Yes, paintings. When we moved up here 15 years ago I brought all of our artwork and we've bought more since. Included in the stuff we brought was a lot of framed paintings and prints and new and used glassed frames from the picture framing shop we owned. They have stayed in the shed and only occasionally 'exhibited' indoors. When I got to the tip I approached the manager of the tip shop to see if she wanted them. She told me that only yesterday someone had brought in a lot of artwork and they were 'choc-a-bloc' with them. She suggested I just throw them into the tip pit. I was loath to do this as some of what I was throwing away had real value -even still with for sale signs on the back of them up to several hundred dollars. I dithered while I was emptying the trailer and waited until one of the pit workers ambled over to check what I was getting rid of. He put aside two pellet guns (the ones I used a couple of years ago to discourage seagulls), a Black and Decker weedeater and some other bits and pieces. I asked him if he wanted some paintings and his eyes lit up when I showed him. There were about thirty of these plus a lot of picture and photo frames which he gladly took and stowed away. this made me feel better about getting rid of them.

I listened to The Marmalade song 'Reflections of My Life' which I like, not having heard it for many years and found that some of the lyrics match nicely with my present situation. I've highlighted some of them:

The changing of sunlight to moonlight Reflections of my life
Oh, how they fill my eyes
The greetings of people in trouble
Reflections of my life
Oh, how they fill my eyes
Oh, my sorrows
Sad tomorrows
Take me back to my own home
Oh, my crying (oh, my crying)
Feel I'm dying, dying
Take me back to my own home
I'm changing, arranging
I'm changing
I'm changing everything
Everything around me
The world is
A bad place
A bad place
A terrible place to live
Oh, but I don't want to die
Oh, my sorrows
Sad tomorrows
Take me back to my own home
Oh, my crying (oh, my crying)
Feel I'm dying, dying
Take me back to my own home
Oh, my sorrows
Sad tomorrows
Take me back to my own home

I don't have any particular sorrows to talk of and have resigned myself to dying in the not too far future. I don't foresee and sad tomorrows and don't believe that the world is a terrible place to live despite all of Donald Trump's attempts to make it so.

Anyway - decluttering ...