As Dianne and I look around the house, we see piles of stuff. The stuff we have accumulated in just the last several years is enough to declare Mount Everest a hill. It’s not that we are hoarders, as hoarders themselves would say, because we do have garage sales, yard sales and any type of sales we can come up with to get rid of the piles of stuff we don’t use.
That brings on another problem. What will happen if we need that one thing, say, in five years or so and we sold it at a garage sale or gave it away to a resale shop? Then we would need to go and buy a brand new thingamajig, possibly costing in the dollars! Now, I am not as bad about that as Dianne, but her pile of stuff is more important to her than my pile of stuff.
I do have to say that we didn’t start out this way. Growing up in humble means, I made most of my stuff to play with. Unfortunately, when I did get a bag of soldiers, they did not pile up because I would neutralize the enemy with my flamethrower, a.k.a. an oil can filled with gas. I got to a certain age in my teens that I would beg and borrow things I needed or wanted. When I moved out of the house, I got used furniture for a little of nothing and was happy.
