The barn door is open . . .

and there's no getting those horses back now!

Apparently, finally throwing something out and

not feeling guilty about it

was the start of something. Something big.

I've started throwing a lot of things out. I don't stop to count (and I'm not going to estimate for the tally). Let's just say "a lot".

I was looking at the top of my dresser today and realized it was a hoard. A tiny hoard, a self contained hoard, but a hoard. I'm not making light of hoarding - unfortunately, I know a lot about it - but yeah, on a small scale, some parts of my house look like little mini-hoards.

I don't want that.

So I started grabbing things off the top of the dresser. Like the dozen or so mismatched socks that have been up there for years? They could be used for projects, they could be saved til we find the mates, they could be used as rags.

THEY COULD BE THROWN AWAY.

And I did. And it felt gooooooooooooooooooooooood.

Same with stained baby clothing from the early 60's, scraps of cloth that could be used for "something", pieces of cut up t-shirt (see above). All of it - in the garbage.

I also found half a dozen matched pairs of perfect condition socks. I think they were worn once and didn't fit. I'm holding them for Goodwill or the consignment store (I see unpackaged socks in the consignment store all the time). So no, I'm not throwing things away just to throw them away.

I got the pile down to about half when I felt the unmistakable beginnings of my dust allergy rearing it's ugly head and I stopped. But I'm going to do more tomorrow and the next day and by the end of the week I'll have nothing up there. I should have taken a picture when I started but I didn't. Tomorrow I'll take the "half way there" picture before I keep going.

Wow. Liberating. Seriously!