Nov. 7, 2008
Halloween is over and at this moment, the biggest retail holidays of the year loom over our heads like giant Macy’s Day Parade balloons.
I decided that I’m going to keep a positive attitude — succumbing to bourbon and eggnog only if necessary — and try to mail Christmas cards out this year like normal people do: Before Christmas.
That’s a reasonable goal, but there are no guarantees in life, and there won’t be any here either.
This Thanksgiving, we’re hosting the dinner. Everyone said they’re coming, which hasn’t happened for five years.
In celebration of this big event, the house (specifically the dining room) needs to be cleaned out now — today, actually, but yesterday would have been nice.
It is not like I haven’t noticed the mammoth heap growing like an unchecked tumor by the front door, as it spills halfway into the dining room. I’ve been tossing all sorts of items there for months, working up the courage and energy to purge it from our house.
Non-keepers are unable to empathize with this self-imposed affliction. It goes both ways though, on the keeper/saver scale of extremes.
I know folks who throw everything away in the garbage with a clear conscience. I silently look away cringing, or physically leave the room; that’s how much it bothers me.
Most of the things are saved at my house because I believe in recycling.
Many years ago, in my sorority at WSU, I regularly collected aluminum cans from everyone’s rooms late at night. This was progressive behavior, and my roommate laughingly declared that I looked like Santa Claus shuffling around in slippers with this huge bag over my shoulder.
I only did it to save the environment in one infinitesimal way.
Doing something is better than nothing. And if I were there today, I would do it again — if my seasoned, parental nagging didn’t motivate enough.
Tonight, I blissfully gaze at the empty space in the dining room and hope that the two carloads of reusable items help the Federal Way Multi-Service Center patrons. I’m trying not to breed more packrats and pray it isn’t a genetic trait.
So far, it looks promising. They don’t seem to covet much. Except when my 8-year-old unfortunately came downstairs just as I was trying to cart it all out the door.
Big mistake: Never try to get rid of anything when children are present. I used unidentified football maneuvers with my arms held wide to physically block her attempts at taking anything out of the bags.
It was a noisy, tense standoff for a few emotional seconds while she cried in indignation, “Hey, I still like those!” (It doesn’t matter to her that it’s two sizes too small; therefore, I’ll have to watch her carefully for further symptoms of packrat-itis.)
She obviously had no idea how difficult it was for me to say goodbye to her little girl toys, and I wasn’t about to share that information.
There was just no way she would be allowed to undermine my Herculean efforts. She shrugged, and with a gentle, but determined push from me, ran back upstairs.
Pat yourself on the back if you have everything under control at your house and you’re mentally ready for the next few months. Sharing how you do it would be inspiring!
Before enlightening me, however, please ask me first if my cards are in the mail. I’ll know exactly what you mean, and if the answer is yes, and it’s Easter, chat away!
I’ll even write it down, word for word — because there’s always hope for next year.
Federal Way resident Jan Hallahan is a writer and mom. Contact:
Jan12160@yahoo.com.
