My leukemia's back.

[lazy gardener]

My cats live in the country.... Spend most of their time outside... Got litter boxes though..... Your talking barn cats.... No farm here? Sorry....50 shades....

My country cat has a litter box too. His feet still smell like popcorn. His litter box does not! He loves to lay beside me at night and squirm around until he has my upper arm for a pillow, and tucks his hind feet into the palm of my hand. He must have cold feet. If my hand is under the covers, he'll poke around, and let me know that he WANTS it.

 

[sourland]

Good morning everyone!

Loved reading the farm and country memories

We're getting rid of most our stuff and in the process of moving to WY. I was sitting on the porch just now thinking...it's not the "stuff", it's the memories we take with us. And the memories are with us no matter where we are.

You all have a wonderful day!

It's not the 'stuff', but the stuff can be tied in with the memories. When the Princess's parents died getting rid of all of their stuff became our responsibility. A lot we set out by the curb and the 'vultures' took it, some we tossed in a dumpster, but some we decided to auction off. As the auctioneer was selling off the 'stuff', the memories came flashing back. Emotionally I couldn't take it - was still drinking then so I went to my FIL's favorite bar and sat out the duration of the sale. Not a good day - like a second funeral.

 

[lazy gardener]

So sorry for that difficult time. I can understand how hard it would have been for you. Yeah, a lot of memories attached to those things that you remember fondly about your parents. Scents, sights, sounds. They all wrap up into a wonderful package that can bring you to tears, or put a smile on your face. My sister has a hard time separating stuff from memories. She's gone into mourning every time my Dad and Mom (My mom has now been gone for almost 14 years) made a change in their lives.

 

[3goodeggs]

That type of sentimentality can cripple you and keep you from relishing the new experiences in life.
My grandfather was very sentimental, but he did not hold on to things nor did it keep him from enjoying new things.

 

[Bunnylady]

My in-laws made it easier on us, in a way - about the time my son was born, they moved into an apartment in a senior community, and auctioned off the contents of their 5-bedroom house (after giving all of us the opportunity to claim anything we wanted). In the next few years, they wound up in smaller and smaller apartments, with less and less space; by the time my MIL passed away from Alzheimer's, there was very little "stuff" left, though I still felt like a vulture dividing it up with my sisters-in-law. In a way, a lot of the mourning and loss had already been done; it was just one more step in the process.

My childhood was spent in military housing and parsonages - every few years, another move to some strange town and a house that wasn't ours and full of stuff that wasn't ours, either (the parsonages of the churches my father served were furnished). Even a packrat can learn to let go of non-essentials when it means renting a bigger truck and maybe having no place to put it when you get to where ever it is that you are going - though it taught me to pack like nobody's business! It feels very strange to me to know that I have lived in this house for 20 years . . . .

 

[Spookwriter]

It's just ...stuff.

And now, I'm the one left with all this stuff.
Sure, it has a dollar value.

But it isn't for sale. I may very well give it away,
here and there.

Out life wasn't about getting any particular thing.
It was about the journey we took together. We just called
it life.

And that's what I have left now, the memories of our walk
through life together.

As I guess most of us did, Barb and I started out with very little
in material stuff. Cast off furniture from our parents, yard sale and
thrift store stuff.

Through the years, it got replaced with better things a time or two.
Very few things remain from the beginning. A few pieces, yes.

But for the most part as I look at what remains, I don't see it as
a dollar investment, or worth selling. I see instead, the memory
of how we came to have what ever it is.

When our daughter was still small, two-three years old, she really
liked a painting we had on the wall. Something I had just given
$400 for. Pretty nice painting for us. I've never made it a secret,
I dote on my daughter. So I took that painting off our living room
wall and gave it to her. Look at it, play with it, destroy it, I didn't
care. Painting survived, and it's still on the wall. She just made it
a little more special for us.

After Barb's dad had his stroke and came to live with us, he was
in his wheelchair. He had trouble getting himself around in the house.
I told him straight up, anything that gets in your way is out of here.
Furniture, a wall, carpet...it didn't make me a bit of difference. He
mattered to me a whole more that the stuff I own.

It's just stuff, things.

You can take my stuff. You can't take the memories.

 

[hbhoffman]

Thanks for talking about memories and stuff! It's helping me to know that after nearly 19 years of homeschooling that at the end of this school year I will need nothing under 11th grade! It needs to go! And so does stuff in the laundry, family and bedrooms! And the closets,only the Lord knows what's in there! Well, off to bed. It's 3 am and i need to be leaving about 7 for the poultry swap. Really wanted to see that brown egg chick hatch! They all look alike even though some are olive egg colored from Americaunas and some are from brown egg Welsummers!

 

[LittleLakePhil]

Good morning everyone!

Loved reading the farm and country memories

We're getting rid of most our stuff and in the process of moving to WY. I was sitting on the porch just now thinking...it's not the "stuff", it's the memories we take with us. And the memories are with us no matter where we are.

You all have a wonderful day!

Yup....memories are what life is...
Strung together like a movie

My country cat has a litter box too.  His feet still smell like popcorn.  His litter box does not!  He loves to lay beside me at night and squirm around until he has my upper arm for a pillow, and tucks his hind feet into the palm of my hand.  He must have cold feet.  If my hand is under the covers, he'll poke around, and let me know that he WANTS it.  

"SEVEN" my little wiener dog love to snuggle under the covers....

It's not the 'stuff', but the stuff can be tied in with the memories.  When the Princess's parents died getting rid of all of their stuff became our responsibility.  A lot we set out by the curb and the 'vultures' took it, some we tossed in a dumpster, but some we decided to auction off.  As the auctioneer was selling off the 'stuff', the memories came flashing back.  Emotionally I couldn't take it - was still drinking then so I went to my FIL's favorite bar and sat out the duration of the sale.  Not a good day - like a second funeral.

Sorry friend.....hate them "Dark" days

That type of sentimentality can cripple you and keep you from relishing the new experiences in life.
My grandfather was very sentimental, but he did not hold on to things  nor did it keep him from enjoying new things.

I know it cripples me....a have valuable stuff I could use the money for.....just sitting in boxes in my closet...never to be used.....:/

My in-laws made it easier on us, in a way - about the time my son was born, they moved into an apartment in a senior community, and auctioned off the contents of their 5-bedroom house (after giving all of us the opportunity to claim anything we wanted). In the next few years, they wound up in smaller and smaller apartments, with less and less space; by the time my MIL passed away from Alzheimer's, there was very little "stuff" left, though I still felt like a vulture dividing it up with my sisters-in-law. In a way, a lot of the mourning and loss had already been done; it was just one more step in the process.

My childhood was spent in military housing and parsonages - every few years, another move to some strange town and a house that wasn't ours and full of stuff that wasn't ours, either (the parsonages of the churches my father served were furnished). Even a packrat can learn to let go of non-essentials when it means renting a bigger truck and maybe having no place to put it when you get to where ever it is that you are going - though it taught me to pack like nobody's business! It feels very strange to me to know that I have lived in this house for 20 years . . . .  

Yeah I bet....I on the other hand never move......don't like it at all....

It's just ...stuff.

And now, I'm the one left with all this stuff.
Sure, it has a dollar value.

But it isn't for sale. I may very well give it away, 
here and there.

Out life wasn't about getting any particular thing.
It was about the journey we took together. We just called
it life.

And that's what I have left now, the memories of our walk
through life together.

As I guess most of us did, Barb and I started out with very little
in material stuff. Cast off furniture from our parents, yard sale and
thrift store stuff.

Through the years, it got replaced with better things a time or two.
Very few things remain from the beginning. A few pieces, yes.

But for the most part as I look at what remains, I don't see it as
a dollar investment, or worth selling. I see instead, the memory
of how we came to have what ever it is.

When our daughter was still small, two-three years old, she really
liked a painting we had on the wall. Something I had just given
$400 for. Pretty nice painting for us. I've never made it a secret,
I dote on my daughter. So I took that painting off our living room 
wall and gave it to her. Look at it, play with it, destroy it, I didn't
care. Painting survived, and it's still on the wall. She just made it
a little more special for us.

After Barb's dad had his stroke and came to live with us, he was
in his wheelchair. He had trouble getting himself around in the house.
I told him straight up, anything that gets in your way is out of here.
Furniture, a wall, carpet...it didn't make me a bit of difference. He
mattered to me a whole more that the stuff I own. 

It's just stuff, things.

You can take my stuff. You can't take the memories.

Another great post Spook.....I'm honored to know you.....Phil

Thanks for talking about memories and stuff! It's helping me to know that after nearly 19 years of homeschooling that at the end of this school year I will need nothing under 11th grade! It needs to go! And so does stuff in the laundry, family and bedrooms! And the closets,only the Lord knows what's in there! Well, off to bed. It's 3 am and i need to be leaving about 7 for the poultry swap. Really wanted to see that brown egg chick hatch! They all look alike even though some are olive egg colored from Americaunas and some are from brown egg Welsummers! 

We are in the process of just being rid of a bunch of stuff 35 years worth stuff......just trying to remodel around here and too much stuff.....

 

[Suzie]

Hi everyone!

Hope the sun is shining for you all today and that adverse health issues disappear over the horizon...

Rachel, many congratulations on your horse riding venture...was it one of your own horses that you rode out on?

Hope your knees and all of the other "bits"

that we had forgotten we had are not giving you any aches and pains..

Have a great day all!

 

[FridayYet]

Hi Suzie. How are the feet after surgery? Hope you are recovering well and that everyone has a great weekend.