It is a bit easier for me than for Jeff, because I am used to giving up stuff. During the best mid-life crisis ever, I sold, donated, stored or gave away everything I owned. I shipped what I thought I needed in 4 boxes to the middle of nowhere, Blanding Utah. The coffee maker did not make it. Otherwise, downsizing complete.
During the first part of my life changing mid-life crisis, I lived with boxes. I never threw a box out because I knew I would be moving on and frankly boxes are expensive. My Grandpa used to call me a rolling stone, because I was always on the move. Literally, on the move. He also thought I should run for Mayor of Farmington, New Mexico. How I love and miss that man.
I have always embraced change Embrace is a good word for it, unless the change is moumentally hurtful, and then change becomes a defense mechanism. During my best mid-life crisis ever yard sale, I set up the front yard at 2am. Who can sleep when their entire life is laid out in the front yard for strangers to paw through and put a price on? This yard sale was going to fund my trip to middle of nowhere Blanding Utah, with extra to live on.
The piano went. The living room and bedroom furniture went. My beloved collection of clocks that make noise went. I kept the howling wolf clock that my son gave me, and a chicken clock that sings. The other dozen clocks were gone. I am not the only one with questionable collectors taste.
My corporate clothes went, including my full length, faux leapard print coat. I loved that coat. It was long and warm, and just crazy enough to work. My heels, gone. I wore nothing but heels and cowboy boots my whole life. Now I was down to the one pair of cowboy boots I owned and flip flops. It is stinking hot in middle of nowhere Blanding Utah. Those boots were so cool. They were red with black cut outs. Mobil Oil payed for them with a bonus I received. I wore them to work, a lot. I can be buttoned up with the best of them, but ya gotta color outside the lines every once in a while.
I was amazed at how much stuff I had accumulated over 20 years. When I divorced my first husband, I walked away from everything. The nice house. White picket fence. Nice cars. My parents were furious that I left things behind that they had given me. Those "things" were not worth the cost of fighting for them. That man controlled my life. He wants it. He gets it. I was gone and that was all I cared about. Stuff is replaceable. Self worth is harder to replace.
Yard sales are cleansing. I desperately try to live by the rule of "if you haven't used it, worn it or thought of it in a year, it's out". With the exception of those jeans I know will fit in a year or my music collection. And my books. Jeff, bless his heart, is threatening me with violence if I even mention selling some of his tools. Oh my gosh, no one comes between a man and his tools.
I'm not used to having a man in my life that is capable of fixing things. My way of fixing things is to call someone to come and fix it. I'm sure I could learn how to fix things, but I prefer not to. I have been independent for so long, that I am not used to having a man who can fix things. One morning, I looked out the kitchen window, and my truck was looking weird. "Jeff, come look at the truck, I think something is wrong with her". Jeff takes one look and says "you've got a flat tire". Really? "Who do I call" I ask him. He looked at me with biwilderment and said "I can fix a flat tire". Really I asked? Yeah, I am that stupid sometimes.
I have come to a point in my life, where I don't want to sell anthing. I am nesting in Montana. We have a pretty big house, however we have reached overload. Our love of auctions doesnt help. This will be harder on Jeff than on me. I've been to this rodeo and it is scarey and fun at the same time. Once you get over the idea of strangers not thinking your stuff is good enough to add to their stuff, a yard sale can be fun just because of the people you meet. Of course I stalk total strangers at gas pumps to talk to them, so maybe its just me.
No comments:
Post a Comment