Our house is in complete disarray as we pack to move. Boxes and boxes of cook books, plus more boxes of stuff. Just stuff, everywhere. Yesterday I went through a bunch of drawers. I was sifting through what we would be selling at our yard sale, which is scheduled for next Saturday. The same day Hurricane/Tropical Storm Danny is predicted to arrive. It's been difficult. For example, I came across a jar in one drawer.
"Mark, what is this?"
"Oh, that's my jar."
"What's in it?"
"Okay, so I can throw it away, right?"
"No! Those rocks used to be on a necklace that I wore. I'm taking them with me."
They were just rocks. Not fancy rocks, not even pretty rocks, just gray rocks barely larger than the pebbles in your driveway. I immediately thought of the movie, The Long, Long, Trailer.
"Okay Lucy, I'll pack them away with the rest of the rocks."
Mark didn't get it.
This is my problem. If I do the right thing and ask Mark about what to do with each thing I come across, I end up with way more crap to move than if I just dumped it all in the garbage while he was out. Unfortunately, Mark doesn't go out drinking nearly as much as he used to. Otherwise I'd have this place cleared out in no time.