Lately, I seem to be obsessing about the Tiny House. ***
As I find interesting articles about the increasingly attractive phenomenon of scaling down, I present them to my husband for inspection.
He’s not having it.
Maybe it’s not the small space, or maybe it is. He, like everyone in my family but me, stands well over 6 ft tall, and perhaps can’t imagine living in a small space.
I seem to think it has more to do with the process of getting serious about downsizing possessions.
What are the basics that we could not live without? That is the stuff to keep. Everything else “gots to go”.
We have a full basement where we store all the stuff we don’t need on a daily basis.
Nearly all of it is stored in the moving boxes that transported us to new job locations, different moving van companies with different destinations.
I had an awakening when my adult children told me that they had no interest in the stuff we had stored down there, even the categorized boxes of school materials that I’d saved on their behalf.
The purge began. Some things to donate, some to sell at garage sale, much of it to trash.
Three things that cause me the most angst; I cannot part with books, music, or photographs.
There are countless books that line the walls of our living room. I know they will have to go someday, but that makes me sad.
Music, in the form of LP records and 45 RPM’s can be transferred to modern format, but we’d miss the turntable.
Something about the scratchiness seems more authentic; DVD’s are almost too perfect.
And then there are the photographs. A lifetime of photography, my passion and obsession.
Every few years, I take on the task of re-organizing the pictures. Digital photography has saved me from the clutter, but that doesn’t help with photos from earlier decades.
I have most photos in leather-bound albums, labeled and dated; with the negatives in archive quality plastic sleeve pages that are bound in 3-ring binders. (No, really).
With the advent of the printer/scanner, there is no real need to save the countless strips of negatives. I could go blind trying to find the exact image I want anyway. So, they had to go.
After the month-long project, I walked large bags of recycle-worthy material to the curb.
I felt lighter; I felt a bit more free.
There will be more shuffling of stuff, more purging, more challenges.
But the dream of a smaller space remains.
Maybe even, that tiny house.
*** I wrote this 2 years ago. With all the activity at the in-laws home, I am thinking this way more than ever. Thanks to EDM Muse and his tiny house vacation post for inspiring the reblog.