Turning to books & clothing when everything else is hard.
When you have too much, paring down is the easy way out.
The past few weeks have been hard. I pay attention to politics and believe in the concepts of “good government” and “democracy” and a document called the “U.S. Constitution.” So it makes me a little crazy to see it all going haywire.
Last week I got enraged by a certain billionaire’s reference to “The Parasite Class.” Yes, that likely includes you—if you benefit from the federal government in any way, which we all do.
Think: parks, medical research, clean water, smooth roadways, safe bridges, planes that land safely, etc. etc. etc.
So I started another Substack newsletter — Stories from “The Parasite Class” — where I am highlighting stories of the people, businesses, and organizations being directly harmed by the cuts. Not only am I collecting stories found on the web, but people can submit their own stories for publication.
Anyway, I have not been as focused on cleaning out the basements, but I did not want to lose all forward motion on that, so I set my sights on some easy stuff: books and clothing.
I offloaded the Terry Prachett collection, the reading obsession of another family member in another era, which I dropped off at a branch of our county library system that takes donations.
And then I plucked a few tops that I never wear from my closet and drawers, along with something of more sentimental value: this terry cloth robe that I last wore more than three decades ago.
Growing up, I wore a robe, or “housecoat” as it was called in my family of origin. As a young adult, though, I’d given it up. Then, as a new parent, I realized how convenient it was for nursing. But I never got into the habit of wearing it after that phase ended, and I’ve been carting it around for way too many years when someone else could be wrapping themselves in it.
I washed it, brightened with bleach, folded it neatly, and dropped it with the other items of clothing into a donation bin near my gym. That’s all I could manage last week. Will try again in the coming days to pare down a little more. Hang in there, friends. Or maybe I mean: Hold on!
For me, the same frustrations with the governmental situation, single digit temps and three feet of snow outside, wood stove heat making everything covered in fine dust, spiders working overtime spinning webs to be laced with same fine dust, stacks of books piling up in every room, lack of a dog for animal comfort, have made me want to open every closet and throw EVERYTHING away. But, you, my dear, are to be commended for taking small bites and keeping yourself sane. Starting a new newsletter—BRAVO!