I lost my parents some years ago (don't cry for me, Webentina) and put off getting rid of a lot of their stuff (see previous post about attaching sentimental value to crap) that most people would have thrown away at least by year 2 A.D. Also as per my last post, I decided to begin my minimalist lifestyle 2 days early, and chose the store room to begin my odyssey. Why.

I don't just have a lot of crap to clear out. I have a ton of crap to clear out. I'm prone to exaggeration, but not this time. I've already gone through 2 packs of jumbo garbage bags and that's only after 1 cupboard. I've had the bejeezus scared out of me by a cockroach that decided my track pants presented a safe haven from the broom (an impromptu striptease is not appealing when you're shrieking at the top of your lungs) and to top it off, I'm allergic to dust.

I went into this thing with the idea firmly rooted in my head that I can Throw Things Away. If I didn't know they were there in the first place, it's as though they never existed, ergo, garbage bin.

It's almost as though I forgot who I am.

Why would I need to hold on to keys that obviously belonged to cars long past just because they, at one point in time, belonged to my parents? I don't have an answer to that, except to say that I will throw them away. Eventually.

On a cooler note, I found 4 rolls of Kodachrome in that cupboard - some mold and worse for wear - on this, the last day ever, that the last roll of it is going to be developed.

My mother was the photographer in the family, and this just proves how cool she was.