We've been struck down by a stomach bug. Caitlyn had it first, then my mom, and now Sam. I'm praying it stops there. My hands are red and raw from all of the hand washing going on. I don't want this junk. No sir.
In other news, I take a handful of stuff downstairs every time I go. At this rate I'll be moved into the sewing room in no time. I unearthed a shelf unit, got it cleaned up, and downstairs.
I'm still trying to do this without spending any money other than for necessities like paint. Heaven knows I've got enough furniture and stuff to outfit another house.
I believe the first load from storage is coming home tonight. It's going to be like Christmas all over again. I've lived without most of my stuff for 3 years now. I'm a sad person. I miss my stuff.
Growing up, my grandmother never had nick-nacks sitting around. She didn't like them and had no use for them. I take that back, she had two things and they sat on the dresser in the bedroom. Other than that, nothing. She also didn't hang pictures on the walls. Maybe this was a result of being a young adult during the Depression. If it wasn't vital for life, she didn't want it around.
Sadly, I'm not like my grandmother in this respect. I enjoy my stuff. I like dusting it, thinking about its past, and using it if possible.