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October 12, 2017: Possessions

For many years, in fact longer than most, I prided myself on being an individual who had very few possessions. I actually made it to adulthood having a minimal amount of personal baggage. Having little baggage meant that I could go places easily and move at a drop of the hat. Life was glorious.

Then something happened – I do not know what. I started to acquire stuff. There was also another side to me which was that of a selective hoarder. However, I was able to fight the impulse – that is if I saw something that I might be able to use somewhere, I was able to resist taking it on.

Gardener picking up manure

The selective hoarder in me must have won out because I am now immobilized by what I own. It comes down to this – there I was today, in the pouring rain, walking around, and putting things that I never dreamed I’d own, away. Like five gallon buckets. I have at least a hundred – they are good for a variety of purposes – I mainly put manure in them. Gardeners take the manure away and return the buckets.

But today – I had several cracked, chipped buckets – what to do? They are destined for the dump, but I momentarily sought other uses for them. I figured I might have Pete fill them with rocks. This thought was that of the hoarder.

I have one bucket that is filled with tennis balls that I have picked up here and there. I have another that is filled with old, rusty horseshoes.

I don’t throw away magazines. And I am surrounded by books, and I’m always thinking of getting more. I have tons of journals and many, many old calendars.

I should lighten my load, but I can’t seem to do this. It is all important – but yet at the same time it is all unimportant.

And this takes us to the subject of the animals. Maybe that is what started it. Got two chickens, two goats, four horses, and one dog. I am their chambermaid, home entertainment center, cook. I am everything to them and they are everything to me. This is why I cannot go anyplace at this point in time. Well, I can go places but then Pete must care for all of them when I’m gone.

This is what I was thinking of today as I was outside moving what I own around. It seemed even more senseless to me today because the rain was coming down in. . . you guessed it, buckets.

So I came inside and began moving inside stuff around. At least I was dry. And as always, when puttering, I was relatively content. This goes here and that goes there. I always think that I am on the verge of having everything where it should be. But I remain on the verge. I do have hope. Change is a constant in everyone’s life, including mine. Tomorrow, for example, I might decide to walk away from it all. And all I will take with me is my tin cup, my favorite possession. To hell with all the other chipped mugs.

Next: 283. October 13, 2017: Movement Science, etc.

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