Signs of Spring – Photo: L. Weikel

Spring Cleaning

Spring Cleaning. What a trite title for a post. But there you have it; a comprehensive recitation of the focus of my day. Perhaps it’s because we’re marking the completion of an entire year of spending 99.98% of our time in and around our home, but the urge to engage in spring cleaning this year is both palpable and urgent.

I’ve toyed with asking a dear friend of mine who is particularly skilled (read: ruthless) at this art to come over and help me purge, but the risk of contracting Covid is still too great.

One of the hardest things about this whole process is that I’m not a shopper. So-called ‘retail therapy’ is not a thing with me. I actually loathe strongly dislike having to go to the store and buy stuff. And before you even think it, let me assure you: I hate the idea of shopping online even more. YUCK.

Aversion

The reason I’m mentioning this aversion to shopping, though, is because I (and by extension Karl and I) tend to buy solid, good quality stuff. The good part about this is that most of what we buy lasts a long time. In fact, it’s easy for us to lose track of time because our possessions tend to last a long time and we lose track of time.

The downside, of course, is that we don’t like to get rid of things when they still have life in them. Alternatively, and I know I speak mostly for myself here as opposed to Karl, I also worry that I’ll give away something of value. And before you judge me as a greedy toad, I want to clarify that the greatest value I worry about squandering is the sentimental or ancestral value.

Why, I ask myself, do I not simply embrace the flow that I know is healthy and allow others to make use of that which sits dormant here in our home? Almost all versions of stuff can be replaced. Am I really thinking I will need all the pie plates I’ve accumulated over the years (because I couldn’t bear to throw out my mother’s or my aunt’s pie plates, even though I had some of my own)?

This question becomes even more penetratingly uncomfortable when I admit to myself that I’ve not baked a homemade pie in probably 20 years. Yeah. That inner admission hurts. And oddly makes me sad.

Fungible Goods?

The greatest exception to the perspective regarding the replaceable nature of things is stuff that our ancestors sat at, worked on, used their wedding money to purchase, or always took out at Christmas/Thanksgiving/birthdays, etc. Aaaarggh! The emotional tug is strong.

And I guess the reason for that is because society is disposable. And I can’t help but feel that the cavalier manner in which so much of what we use in our lives is tossed out (often on a whim or just because of wanting something new) is a reflection on how we feel about everything in life.

Yikes. I’m getting maudlin.

I guess I’ll end this here for tonight. Phew. I was going down a rabbit hole for sure.

More Croci – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-249)