Sunday, December 7, 2014

First Step

They say that admitting there is a problem is the first step to recovery.  I am told I have a problem, but I'm not sure I believe that and I'm not sure I am looking for salvation.  I'm not a hoarder but will admit to a certain reluctance to throw things away.

My barn shoes had sprung any number of leaks.  With the rainy season finally here and the yards full of mud (and a lot of et cetera), I broke down and bought a new pair on my last trip to town.  The new shoes look just like the old pair, but are warm and keep my feet dry.  And there sat the sad old, broken shoes, covered in barnyard et cetera.  It seemed so cold hearted to dump them in the trash bin.  They'd worked hard and done their job well.  I tend to bond with my shoes.  On a shelf high up in the back of the closet, there is a box full of beautiful high heels that I will never wear again but cannot bear to part with.  I go through barn shoes at an alarming rate and could easily accumulate a mountain of these used-up shoes and so, reluctantly, I let the old pair go.

In the kitchen, I use those sponges with a scratchy pad on one side to wash dishes.  I keep a supply under the sink.  I use a sponge until there is no more scratch and the sponge hangs in shreds; it still washes the dishes.  Like that line in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, "I'm not dead yet!"  This drives my daughter batty.  I can always tell when she's been at the sink, as the next day I find a new sponge on the counter and no sign of the old ratty but perfectly good one.  I think she hides the remains in her purse to take away.  I hope she gives it a decent burial.

California recently passed a ban on plastic bags from the grocery store.  Not to worry.  I will not go without.  I have a lifetime supply in a barrel-size (plastic) bag.  I will have the corner on the black-market for those who need a plastic-bag fix.  I don't throw them willy-nilly out there to destroy the environment, but there are those things for which nothing but a plastic bag will do; used cat litter being one, and I'm sure Trash Guy would agree.

Years ago I cancelled all my magazine subscriptions.  I had to.  I'd run out of space to keep the ever-growing collection of every issue of every magazine I had.  I'd give a new addition a quick once-over when it arrived, then set it aside for some future day when I'd have time to read the articles and cut out recipes and/or projects.  There are shelves and drawers everywhere in the house stacked with magazines still awaiting my attention.  I could fill a landfill with unread magazines.

I will not address the issue of books.  Books, to me, are like children and animals:  once you have them, they are yours for the duration.

Again, while I'm not yet ready to say I have a problem, when I am ready to take that first step, I'll take it in a new pair of shoes.


Kathryn said...

I can envision your worn out but oh-so-faithful work shoes tucked on your porch or in the garden with some cute little plant carefully tucked inside...say some pansies or some hens-and-chickens??? That way you could watch them build up and know it is a testament to your day-too-day life at Farview! Kind of an "I'm not dead yet" record of your activities!

Kathryn said...

I actually meant to say "deck" and not "porch," but a porch pair would work too!