And thus we have begun the enormous project called "cleaning the basement".
When we built this house the idea was that we would stay forever until we died. We loved the property and the house that much. We have a gorgeous 20 acre field with a wood for a backdrop. A terrific barn where we used to keep over 20 llamas and a couple horses. We are down to four llamas and still have the two horses, although they are aging.
The house was built by two Amish brothers and is extremely well constructed. It's a lovely, large home with a cathedral-like ceiling in the great room, four large bedrooms, a foyer, a dining room, and a living room which we use as the office. We have beautiful tile in the kitchen, cherry wood floor in the foyer and dining room, and carpet everywhere else.
Our home has tons of windows to let in the light. Especially facing south where the great room is; it is always so bright and cheerful.
So, the basement. Another story.
As they were building the house we started moving things over from our other house to ease the moving process. Once we moved in we had quite a collection of boxes and things from a fourteen years of a life raising children and not knowing what the future held so we held on to a lot of things. Memories. Children's toys. Children's clothes. Books. More books. Junk.
Nick was two when we moved in. He would sneak down to the basement and perform his duties as the agent of entropy, prince of chaos, and dump all the boxes of little things onto the floor; rummaging through to see if there was anything he wanted. He did this on a regular basis until about a year ago. He's 15 now. We think he's stopped.
As a result the basement is a total disaster. It's embarrassing, truly it is.
The task of purging things that have been in the basement for the thirteen years we've lived here and never needed has begun. We are on weekend #2.
We are starting with the scrap metal and are almost done with that. We've taken three loads to the recyclers with at least one more to go, probably two. Then we are going to do books, I think. We've tossed two car seats and a baby swing. The stroller is trapped by a sofa so it's going to have to wait. We have a pool table that needs repair that we've never used. The goal is to clear away the corner by the windows and put down some carpet remnants, of which we have many, and create a cozy corner with the two sofas, chair, and entertainment center we put down there. At that point there should be enough room to photograph the pool table and put it up for sale on Craigslist.
I'm hoping Craigslist is my friend.
As I am going through this draconian purge of my life ... that would be the life enclosed in the many boxes that I haven't really looked at in thirteen years, I am finding things that bring up emotion and sentiment.
Yesterday I found the jewelry box with a lock of Noah's hair from his first haircut. Well, I have to keep that. I found my jingle shells that I collected in Florida as a child. You can't find them anymore on the beaches in Florida; I've looked. I walked the bag of jingle shells and a bag of small rocks out to the driveway with the aim of filling up a pothole, and I couldn't do it. So I went to the garden and dumped everything out there. The shells were so bright it was like they held the sunlight inside of them.
I left the rocks, but put the shells back in a bag. I may need to take some sunlight with me to Europe.
When we built this house the idea was that we would stay forever until we died. We loved the property and the house that much. We have a gorgeous 20 acre field with a wood for a backdrop. A terrific barn where we used to keep over 20 llamas and a couple horses. We are down to four llamas and still have the two horses, although they are aging.
The house was built by two Amish brothers and is extremely well constructed. It's a lovely, large home with a cathedral-like ceiling in the great room, four large bedrooms, a foyer, a dining room, and a living room which we use as the office. We have beautiful tile in the kitchen, cherry wood floor in the foyer and dining room, and carpet everywhere else.
Our home has tons of windows to let in the light. Especially facing south where the great room is; it is always so bright and cheerful.
So, the basement. Another story.
As they were building the house we started moving things over from our other house to ease the moving process. Once we moved in we had quite a collection of boxes and things from a fourteen years of a life raising children and not knowing what the future held so we held on to a lot of things. Memories. Children's toys. Children's clothes. Books. More books. Junk.
Nick was two when we moved in. He would sneak down to the basement and perform his duties as the agent of entropy, prince of chaos, and dump all the boxes of little things onto the floor; rummaging through to see if there was anything he wanted. He did this on a regular basis until about a year ago. He's 15 now. We think he's stopped.
As a result the basement is a total disaster. It's embarrassing, truly it is.
The task of purging things that have been in the basement for the thirteen years we've lived here and never needed has begun. We are on weekend #2.
We are starting with the scrap metal and are almost done with that. We've taken three loads to the recyclers with at least one more to go, probably two. Then we are going to do books, I think. We've tossed two car seats and a baby swing. The stroller is trapped by a sofa so it's going to have to wait. We have a pool table that needs repair that we've never used. The goal is to clear away the corner by the windows and put down some carpet remnants, of which we have many, and create a cozy corner with the two sofas, chair, and entertainment center we put down there. At that point there should be enough room to photograph the pool table and put it up for sale on Craigslist.
I'm hoping Craigslist is my friend.
As I am going through this draconian purge of my life ... that would be the life enclosed in the many boxes that I haven't really looked at in thirteen years, I am finding things that bring up emotion and sentiment.
Yesterday I found the jewelry box with a lock of Noah's hair from his first haircut. Well, I have to keep that. I found my jingle shells that I collected in Florida as a child. You can't find them anymore on the beaches in Florida; I've looked. I walked the bag of jingle shells and a bag of small rocks out to the driveway with the aim of filling up a pothole, and I couldn't do it. So I went to the garden and dumped everything out there. The shells were so bright it was like they held the sunlight inside of them.
I left the rocks, but put the shells back in a bag. I may need to take some sunlight with me to Europe.
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