Two different moving companies came today to bid on our move to Colorado. It was rather eye-opening. When we moved to California from Colorado almost three years ago, Toben's company paid for the move and I don't recall ever knowing any of the details.
First, moving is expensive.
Second, despite downsizing when we moved here, then getting rid of LOTS more stuff, we still own a lot of stuff. Fourteen thousand pounds of stuff, to be exact.
I worked through this pile of ironing the other day and watched several episodes of Little House on the Prairie while getting it done.
If you haven't seen Little House on the Prairie for a while, the show begins with a covered wagon at the top of a hill. A covered wagon pulled by two horses and holding everything the Ingalls family owned, and with room for five people to boot. (It's on the Hallmark channel for a couple of hours everyday if you need a refresher!)
How did they do it? Of course they didn't own hundreds of books. They didn't own a superbly comfortable, most wonderful king-size bed in the world like we do. They didn't have everyday dishes for twelve, china for ten, and a box of dishes just for the Christmas season. They didn't own couches, or a dining room table, kitchen table, two desks, or a lawn mower.
As I recall they owned Pa's fiddle, a change or two of clothes for each person, Jack the dog, an iron spider for cooking, a tin plate and cup for each person, Ma's school books, an oil lamp, and a family Bible. Laura and Mary each had a doll, and Ma only owned one knick knack--the china shepherdess. (Somehow I think Ma must have had some sort of a fabric and yarn stash, because...well...who doesn't?!)
Somehow I can't imagine it, though it does sound so wonderfully simple and appealing. So I walk through the house, looking for what else I can donate or get rid of, and I just don't know where to start. I've already culled the obvious stuff--where to go next?
And then I remind myself of something I say a lot: that choosing a simple life isn't always easy. That some of the choices are hard. And so I think the Christmas dishes may need to go, and perhaps some more books. But not until tomorrow...