Desperately Seeking a Sense of Accomplishment

What a weekend!  Aargh!  For two days--with time off for a walk in Tilden Park and three nag-free hours on Sunday during which Jerry watched the '49ers game--we cleaned the basement.  It had become a shocking, slum-like repository of junk.

I carted three non-wheeled suitcases (American Tourister), an broken ironing board, an old oak office chair, a functioning modem, and an  '80's era be-fringed cushion to the bottom of the driveway and stuck a "Free" sign on them.  They all went.  We left more junk there overnight:  gone in the morning. Thank you, whoever you are.

We still had a full carload to take to the Berkeley Transfer Station.  I hate this place because a) it stinks...

Vast mountain of junk at the dump; this is just the summit

 

 

...and b) because I feel guilty.  All this junk we have the pleasure of acquiring and a too-convenient way to get rid of!  No one's standing around at the dump carrying a sign that says, "THINK BEFORE YOU ACQUIRE!"  Where does it all go?  (Don't know, but there are big City of Berkeley trucks lined up, not garbage pick-up trucks, but just about the size of ship containers to haul something away somewhere.)

 

Our carload: $29 and we're free of it--too small a price to pay for desecrating the planet?

 

We recycled all we could, but what do you do with a giant 15-year old microwave inherited from Jerry's dad?  Or dust-mite laden pillows?  A broken wine rack?  An ancient bowling ball (far right, in carrying case).  I did rescue the round basket at the left.

 

On Sunday, we collected two bookcases that my friend Claudia wanted to dispense with, wrestled them into the car, and then painfully maneuvered them into the basement.  One of these days, Jerry's going to have to clear out his University office, and these will be filled with reprints and books.  More lugging.

 

Poignant:  I found a box of all my college class notes, dusty and moldy.  What to do?  Put them on the street with a "Free" sign (right!).  Or save them just because we have room? 

 

 

 

Two of my readers will read this sideways (i-Phone picture gone wrong) and recognize the address:

 

Class notes from fall 1970, when I transferred to Berkeley

 

And funny:  Jerry's hat collection drives me nuts, always in the way when I try to pull out suitcases.  I washed a bunch of them so at least they'd be clean.  He arranged the drying, on top of coffee cans:

 

 



After we finished, I took some pictures to mark our accomplishment:  Big deal!  It's still a room full of junk, with a clothesline:

 

 BEFORE

Chaos with ice chests

 

 

 

 AFTER:

Slightly less chaotic, still with ice chests

 

 

 BEFORE:

Note the empty "wine rack,", part of the  hat collection, unused backpack frame, suitcases

 

 

AFTER: 

Bookcase for University office overflow, washed caps, winnowed down suitcases,  bar (lower left; we don't drink hard liquor anymore--pity because in the old days this would have called for a pitcher of martinis).