Our Christmas things have been put away and I’ve realized
that my “I’m not thinking about packing up the house until the 1st
of January” mandate has officially been adhered to. On time even (something of
a rarity in this household as those who know us can irritably attest to)! Not
only did I have the usual ‘another year gone’, ‘I wish this ratty bauble would
just break!’, ‘can I get poisoning from inhaling tinsel?’ etc etc but also the
very real thought our little Christmas tree could finally be put out to pasture
and I could splurge on a ‘proper’ (fake- no the irony is not lost on me) one in
a few years time when we’re home post-Big Trip. This tree, costing
approximately $12 in 2001 from Crazy Clarks, standing 91 cm high, harassed by little
people and Christmas decorations over
ten holiday seasons, was finally done. It’s reign (ha ha) was over…. In between
thoughts of a two metre plus, spruce green, built in LED light wonder, I also
thought about when and where I’d bought that first tree, where we lived, when I
first put it up, the changes that had taken place in our family, address and
circumstances…
No. This tree could not be put in the Vinnie’s bin.
And so begins what I had secretly feared- an inability to
actually get rid of the objects we no longer needed. We haven’t moved for 4
years and I was looking forward to the cleanse of packing up the house and down
sizing our mountains of crap. Instead I’m starting to make excuses for all the
reasons these things should stay rather than tossing them joyfully into the bin.
Of course, I’m also reeling after a pretty big month of Christmas cheer and a
fairly epic New Years, so maybe this packers’ remorse is also a tiny bit
brewers’ gloom. I need to be focused, ruthless and pragmatic, not sentimental
and camembert soft.
Yep. I’ll rethink the Christmas tree thing tomorrow, and of
course I still need boxes to pack everything into so that’s at least another
week until I really get started. Nothing like a bit of procrastination…
Packing 1
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