Since a decade or so, I’m all in one place; all my belongings under one roof. After the ride and the unload, who knew that the shed in which I put the boxes for holding, had a leak. The best way to discover a leak is to place a box on the floor and a couple on top of that. The good of all that was that it forced me to open the boxes again and sort cull and send on to the local ‘goodwill’ shop here. They love getting ‘out-of-the-ordinary stuff and I love them getting it. So for 3 days I moved stuff around and and and… it is all done. The shed is empty, the boxes are recycled and I am up to my ears in memories. The photos in albums alone are enough to take one back for days. However I am a saver of words. Cards. Letters. Thoughts. Ideas. Short stories. Long stories. It is all there, waiting to be massaged into something.
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Bravo for DEALING! I sometimes imagine myself in a little apartment at a retirement facility (like my aunt), my last dwelling, and what I would keep for that tiny place. Then I stop thinking of that because there is NO Tiny place that would hold my chatchkiis.
I’m so lucky to, like you, be going over pictures at the moment — a bag holding the ALL of our family slide collection….wonderful ’50s outfits, smiles, homes, friends… Just terrific places and people. What, what to do with these gems…. Yes, short stories….