Do I Really Need to Hang On to Those Skis?

The move went down on Sunday with the help of ATX Moving (highly recommended). It took 3 men four hours from start to finish, and they were a little peeved when they saw all the stairs at the Kirkwood place - apparently we technically lived in a third floor apartment rather than the second floor we thought we lived in. We gave them power-ade and when they were done they hosed themselves off and we all drank a lonestar. Moving always humbles me because I am forced to come to terms with the fact that I have a lot of crap. Boxes and boxes of random odds and ends that taunt me in their 88% uselessness. It's that 12% potential usefulness that keeps me hanging on. I did throw away and donate bags of stuff this time around, but I am trying to do more. This morning I left my downhill ski boots at the Salvation Army on S. Congress. I actually felt pangs as I drove away, and saw my boots receding in the distance. Where will they end up? Those boots took me down many a mountain, and I don't want them to end up on a scrap heap somewhere . Who in Texas could possibly appreciate them?

So now I'm left with a pair of downhill Rossignol and a pair of Karhu cross-country racing skis. I've had them since the late 1980s. Seriously. I also have a 17" computer monitor that I brought with me from Seattle, and haven't used or wanted to use it in three years. A perfectly good monitor, but it's humongous and in its original box takes up a lot of space. I'm sitting here staring at coffee-table cat books, an old fleece pillow, a broken cat toy, 10-pound hand weights, a piece of denim cloth that I thought would make good patch material (8 years ago), a beanie baby (a pug doggie) given to me by my mom about 10 years ago, a box of wool gloves, mittens, and hats, a bag of thick wool socks, and at least one box of greeting cards sent to me over the years by my parents and assorted close friends. And that's just what I can see from where I'm sitting. The personal mementos are the hardest. I've been pack-ratting this stuff around for 15 years at least, driven by the fear that when I'm an old woman I will forget everything that ever happened to me and thus will need 10 boxes (projected estimate) of reminders so I can go sift through it and remember that weekend trip I took to Boulder Colorado in 1994. Sigh.

One more day of cleaning the old apartment and then we're done. We're living out of boxes at the new place but the cable is all hooked up and I have my wireless internet again so all is well. Frankie has her very own fenced front yard all to herself (she's been sharing with 1 - 3 other dogs the last two years), and she wants to play ball all day. O.F. and Stella adjusted fairly quickly but Pepe needs some more time. The first thing he did is get himself stuck behind the refridgerator. He was able to get himself out though, but not before I panicked realizing there was no human way to move the fridge. When the cable person was here doing the hookup both Stella and Pepe hid behind the fridge for a couple of hours - I thought they were going to pass out from the heat and be too weak to jump back out -- Stella came out with some coaxing but Pepe stayed down in there for like two more hours. Weirdo.

Other than that I'm having trouble finding a place for the litter box. My bathroom hardware accessories from restoration hardware arrived today - I can't wait to install them. The front door area is festering with mosquitoes that attack even in broad sunlight - anyone know how to control them other than getting rid of standing water (which there is none). I am very scattered and overwhelmed! I am hoping no one at the Coww is missing me this week.