Thursday, May 7, 2009

Wear, Sell or Donate

Is my mantra as I go from room to room, closet to closet, pursuing one of my favorite pastimes, spring cleaning.

In addition to the normal crap associated with raising two kids, I had entrepreneurial dreams which resulted in a poorly located store, lots of debt and a small apartments worth of merchandise. So we have more than our fair share of stuff to sell at our neighborhood yard sale.

Most of my unsold goods, in addition to various fixtures, racks and shelving, have been housed by my incredibly kind hearted mother in law. She lives alone in a large house with an in law suite, so she's not pressed for space. But it's been years since my store closed, so I'm making one big and final push to empty the space.

I've been a busy bee, making the 60 mile round trip trek to her house to collect things and organize, purging all sorts of ghosts in the process. Enough distance has passed that I can look back at my small business experience with a gallows type humor.

Our family joke has long been that my mother in law was secretly glad to have my stuff in her basement because it prevented my sister in law, her three kids and most importantly her schizophrenic husband (literal diagnosis, not just an affectionate characterization on my part) from staying with her for long periods of time. They technically live in Florida but neither of them works so they regularly road trip with their various un-housebroken pets.

Well, the cat is officially out of the bag. Jim's mom made it known that she would prefer that I keep something, anything, down there so that her house remains cluttered but vermin free.

So I'll head over there again tomorrow but instead of putting things in order, I'll spread what's left around. Empty boxes of hangers on the floor, strew some books around. Stage decorating is a new talent but I always rise to the task!


  1. Any interesting twist on the talent of staging...instead of enticing home buyers you'll be repelling moochers!

  2. It's crazy but true.

    And I didn't even mention the part where her cats pissed and shat everywhere. 5 year old jogging strollers aren't worth anything but that's really besides the point!