Cleaning Day At The Compound

It's a bittersweet day here at The Compound.  It's a Saturday, and that means I don't have to work today nor tomorrow; but it is also Cleaning Day. Actually, it should be called "Throwing Out The Contents Of The Puddin Museum."

For the past few weeks, the 'rents have worked downstairs, in what Dad calls "Reclaiming Our Basement" in preparation for Monday's arrival of our new washer and dryer. I don't think I need to mention the gory details - you probably get the picture.  Imagine if you will an unfinished basement full of 37 years worth of memories from this house. Those memories are very space-consuming. I'm ashamed to admit that I still have school papers and books from kindergarten all the way through to graduate school.  I won't even scare you with how many boxes of magazines I've kept from the years.  I'm sure I could have probably put them all on eBay and made quite a few bucks.  But for some reason, I couldn't. I had to haul them all up the basement stairs and outside to the garbage cans.  In between cracking the whip to keep me motivated, Dad did move the garbage cans to the side door, so I didn't have to go all the way through the house and out to the backyard.  What a guy. 

I actually started throwing away last Saturday, and have been down in the basement since after breakfast this morning.  It's been a major walk down memory lane.  Of course, I couldn't just throw a folder or stack of things away; I had to look through each and every folder, box, and sack, just in case there was something in there that would break my heart if I threw it away. I'm not keeping very much.  Out went all but 3 or 4 magazines in my country music collection. The same with my Charlies Angels magazine collection.  I did, however, have to keep my X-Files and Elvis magazines.  I draw the line somewhere.

I came across some old greeting cards, photographs, and other momentos that actually made me misty-eyed.  At the same time, I found concert ticket stubbs and other momentos that made smile and laugh out loud.  A picture of me and Grandma really hit me hard, and a few minutes later I laughed when I found a picture of Stacy and me at our high school ring ceremony when we were just young thangs. So it all evens out I guess.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, though, for Mom was across the basement in another corner doing the same thing.  She really got misty when she found the little white plastic bells that they would fasten to my white baby shoes.  All in all, a small portion we kept and the majority will be hauled away by Dixie Sanitationon Monday.  But we'll have the memories, good and bad, forever. They don't take up nearly as much room as the stuff did in the basement.