Hoarders/Collectors

I watched a hoarding show today. Reminders... 

        My name is Lindy. I am a HOARDER/COLLECTOR. 

Her house was a 3 story "mansion" and mine is a 1 story... well ordinary 3 bedroom house. She had so much stuff you couldn't get upstairs. It wasn't dirty, just a LOT of stuff. Mine isn't dirty either. I remember watching one that was a cat lady, and there were bodies in there. And then there was the man who was missing for 3 years before they found him... I do not have animal bodies, or cat feces all over, or a kitchen full of stinky sink. I never did have animal bodies, but in one house we had around 5 cats and when we were moving found... stuff in corners. It's not like that here, and I have pretty much trained myself to not leave the kitchen dirty. I remember back when I was single parenting 5 and the kitchen was not always good. So I am not as bad as all that. BUT.... I am a procrastinator, I am a very good procrastinator. I have plenty to prove it. Like that wall hanging. I started that in around 2007. I finished the front quickly but then it got hung up in the store, just the front, and when I quit the job it just got put into a box. The back is now done and ready for quilting. It should only take me an hour or so. But still. 13 years????? And then there's that one sock that never got a mate crocheted, I lost the pattern. 

ok REMINDER TWO. I am highly distractable, which shows in that last paragraph, I can easily just wander around and get a little of this done and a little of that but never get done what I started out to do. I remember having a distinct schedule once. I don't remember what that was though. Something like, Monday kitchen Tuesday bathrooms Wednesday bedrooms Thursday laundry Friday I don't remember if that was it, but something like that. When I had kids here, I also had HELPERS. I struggled then, but the kids helped me stay on task, and got involved in the whole process.It also helped to have a foster child, because we got surprise inspections, and that is indeed motivating. 

Reminder THREE. I am dealing with Mom and Dad's stuff, even Grandma and Grandpa's chests and tables, the Civil War dresser that was my mom's treasure, tables and such that my father built, the ceramics that he made, the little boxes collection of my mom's that I love, the sweaters and hats she knitted, stuff that was Loretta's, Grandma Butler's, Evelyn's... a table that was my aunt's?? I look at their stuff, and they are all departed... and I KNOW that I am not throwing THEM out.... some of it that was Loretta's I took because she asked me to, she said she didn't want it just donated. BUT WHAT THEN??? I remember my mom "feeling the power" when my dad died and I think that's true, there's also a LOT here that is Kerry's, that he doesn't care about but does not want to let go.... go karts, a motorcycle that hasn't been ridden in around 30 years, a car that doesn't run... I think if I were (God forbid) left alone, well, I would call his sons and we would feel the power. 

Reminder FOUR These people in these shows have a team of ten or more to deal with stuff. They just pick it up and go. They hire a dumpster and dump it. I can't stand to think of that. If you donate it, however, there's a good chance it's going to end up in a landfill somewhere anyway. I don't even have ME that is good at throwing things away. 

One day at a time. I will celebrate the clean sink and clean bathrooms. That is better than it used to be. It's funny, I don't admit this stuff to people and yet I put it out there on a blog that is public. Reminds me however of my grandpa, who wrote a column in a newspaper, had articles in a magazine, and nobody knew until later. I didn't have the pleasure of getting to know my grandpa directly, but I see his heart in his writings. It shocked me to think that I don't share stuff with my kids, will they know ME by my writing?? 

A big help has been allowing myself to create. I thought for years that I couldn't until "stuff was done" and then I never got to it. And so I get out my autoharp or uke or keyboard and let myself play, and every day try to get some kind of creating done, project worked on.... no matter if I got "stuff" done. Then I usually end up getting something done. 

Lately I've been fighting severe depression. It helped that Michelle Obama came out and said she has also been depressed. I think we all are. We're sacrificing and isolating so we aren't part of the pandemic problem... but there's this little part of me that says, what if we're wrong, what if this is all a game someone is playing... and then I hear another report of another outbreak, and see lots of groups like the RNC and rallies and NASCAR and all the protesters... and this is a very conservative town, so there's that. it's all crazymaking. 

I know I am not alone in all this, but I really don't talk to anyone about anything, and that in itself is crazymaking, even for an introvert. I don't reach out because I don't know what to say, and yet I can write and write. Not only here, but I have notebooks full of writing, thoughts, stories, poems, art journaling, painting.... A bit strange don't you think?

 

rock collection

This picture isn't all of the rocks, by any means... my mom says I used to pick up rocks wherever I went and I kept all I could get away with keeping. I had many boxes of rocks hidden away.

 In seventh grade, I did a science project with my rocks. The grandfather of my across-the-street neighbors was a rock hound, and I had the privilege of spending time with him, learning about the rocks he had gathered and identifying the ones I had. He even gave me samples! I still have the petrified fish, some agate pieces, and a couple of geodes he gave me, and even a few tiny industrial diamonds as well as the beautiful specimen of pahoehoe!

Before Camanche Reservoir was there, a different neighbor took us gold panning and I still have a teesy tube with flakes of gold. Not worth much, I'm afraid!

I'm still at the rock collecting. Usually though I buy them where I go, since you cannot now legally collect rocks in national parks. I'm always fascinated with those pretty dyed pebbles, even though I know they are not naturally those colors.

My daughter in law added to my collection with a beautiful piece of jasper.

I have a display on the top of the bookcase, and a case of them as well... and some scattered around here somewhere, either in boxes or on display. That's another collection that doesn't get downsized.

Hmm.

This was from Bryce Canyon gift shop. You can't see the glorious
orange color very well.

a river rock with someone
in the hole.

this one is a beautiful green.

This isn't as pretty as most geodes, but
it just split without cutting
from Mr. Isbill

collections...

I am a Hoarder. I do not collect garbage, my house is not knee deep in stuff (well there is That Room...) I've been sorting and tossing and tossing..... until I can't toss any more, then I see what else I can get rid of.... but there are The Collections.

Of course I can't toss my dollhouse dolls, although my mom decided I didn't need my old metal dollhouse any more. It was a Marx Tin doll house, I found a picture of one for sale on ebay, which I don't want to buy, since I don't want to spend $146 on an old metal dollhouse... but nostalgic of course. I still have some of the old furniture, including a dresser and a couple of beds... I remember I had a stove and refrigerator, and that the refrigerator door was broken... taped together like some of my other toys...

My dollhouse family was a bit odd. I had some porcelain dolls, but not your usual mother-father and children. Nooo.... there was The Cowboy, The Uncle, and three little girls and a little boy. I think the Cowboy and The Uncle were running some sort of orphanage; but nobody ever got adopted. For awhile I had some of those bent-legged babies, don't have any idea where they went. I don't think Uncle and The Cowboy were Up to anything, I was just Making Do with what I had... I have no idea where these little dolls came from, or why my doll house never had a Proper Family. But we did all right. They certainly kept me company. They were small enough to fit into a pocket.

For some reason, I never let the kids play with them, although they must have been sturdy enough, they survived MY playing. Then my father made a wonderful doll house for us, along with help from my daughter and my sons. It now sits in The Middle Bedroom with my dollhouse toys and my daughter's. She didn't have a Proper family either, she wanted bears. I did make a clothespin doll to be Goldilocks when she visited. We made furniture as well as acquiring a few things, like a tiny cast iron stove. I had a wooden cabinet that I let her play with, and we found a lovely table to use.

And so I'll reminisce...and hope someday some grandchild will enjoy playing with The Uncle, The Cowboy and the children, or Goldilocks and the Three (or more) bears....

turns out this guy is a groom. I never had the bride, I guess he got left at the altar. He never seemed bitter about it. :)

the children look a bit grimy. I think a good scrubbing and some paint should fix them right up.
Or maybe I will leave the dirt from my childhood fingers. 

June 3: I talked to my mom, who had absolutely no memory of these dolls. I showed my daughter the pictures, and she says I let her play with them every once in awhile. I know she used the furniture in her doll house and her bears.

June 18: Finally hit upon the Proper Search Words. These are Penny dolls-- originally sold in the 1930's for a penny. Some were called Bisque Cutie Dolls. I even saw The Cowboy, although he was just in a picture and no information. Didn't find The Uncle, although there were some similar ones that were tiny. Fun to find out what my childhood toys are worth these days.