Tag Archives: hoarding

Come on people….

 

Get a grip.

I made a trek to the grocery store today where I was met with the same empty ‘oh my God the sky is falling and we’ll never be able to buy dish soap again’ shelves.

Yes, dish soap.

 

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Good grief, are we still doing this?

By all means wear a mask to protect others.

 

 

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Preferably color coordinated to your shirt.

But enough with the ‘we must fill the underground bunker with every canned good in a 600 mile radius’ mentality.

The news squawks about meat shortages…. but the cases were full of every conceivable type of flesh imaginable.

But rice?

 

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Unless you want red quinoa brown…. which I didn’t, and never will ….. no can do.

 

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Tolerant chick pea and green lentil pasta?

No, damn it! I have no tolerance for that.

 

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Toilet paper? Nope.

Not unless you’re supposed to use those strategically placed plastic loofahs.

Look… there’s one shaped like an ice cream cone!

That has possibilities.

 

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The lack of eggs was definitely a new development.

When I spoke with the cashier she assured me that they do get regular deliveries and stock the shelves as they always have. No one has an explanation for the continued panic buying after all this time.

It really is getting old, as well as ridiculous.

 

 

 

It’s a miracle… albeit a small one.

 

By now I think you’re all familiar with the giant barn we built a few years ago.

 

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The husband had visions of a man cave complete with bar, pool table and plenty of space to display his  totally useless crap  treasures.

What he got was a little different.

 

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This is what happens when you’re a hoarder in training. You have a more than ample 2 story space and you fill it with random  rubbish, recycled debris  stuff.

So the other day when the husband asked me if I would help him clear some of it out?

 

 

I admit I was a trifle excited.

 

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The future yard sale pile grew larger.

But don’t faint…. it’s mostly my things, with some items a friend left in his basement for the husband when he moved to Oklahoma. Yes, that’s the $800 scooter we bought on Craig’s List for the husband’s brother who said he wanted it but didn’t like it and never used it. My eyes did some serious rolling that day let me tell you.

 

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There was a lot of heavy lifting involved as none of the husband’s  rusty crap  treasures are light.

What… you don’t have an adjustable height potato planter that weighs as much as a medium sized water buffalo?

Why ever not.

 

 

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Of course he wanted most of these items upstairs.

 

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See that?

It’s a hay bale fork with a pulley system for the hay bales we’ll never have or be required to move. And guess what? When you drop it on your toe while climbing the stairs….

You curse it.

Quite colorfully as it turns out.

 

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As we spent the next few hours moving and sweeping and organizing…  ( okay, that was me and it was pretty fruitless because the husband refused to put anything in the trash pile, even this collection of tires that don’t fit any vehicle we own )  I realized my miracle clean out was really just a ‘move things around so you can see the floor again’ type of miracle. But hey, I’ll take what I can get.

Before  –

 

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After –

 

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Floor!

 

Part of it anyway.

 

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I wish I could make him understand how wonderful a space this could be if he would just part with all the junk. And I don’t mean everything….. mixed in with all the why the hell did you buy that! stuff are some legitimately interesting things.

 

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This old butter table is sweet.

 

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And I do love the old apple press.

Otis the Opsrey is waiting patiently to be installed on the roof as well.

 

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Though that baby is all mine and cost me a pretty penny.

But the ridiculous things he picks up and brings home because they’re free?

 

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They’ve got to go.

 

 

 

Wiped out.

 

A girlfriend told me she went shopping yesterday and still couldn’t find any toilet paper on the shelves. My usual reaction to this is an eye roll and an under the breath sputter of “people be crazy”…. but this time I thought I’d do a little research.

 

 

Exactly.

It’s not an intestinal virus FFS! Why is everyone still hoarding the Charmin?

 

Whaaat!

The average American uses 141 rolls a year?

Christ on a cracker, that’s 2.71 rolls a week… per person! My husband and I have only used 2 rolls in the last 3 weeks…. together.

What are you people doing with it….

Wallpapering the bathroom while you sit?

 

Panic Room…

2020 style.

 

I was 9 years old during the embargo, so can someone please explain why toilet paper prices were raised? Did people use it as an alternate energy source?

If so, how many miles per roll did it get?

And speaking of alternatives….

 

A million dollars worth of bidet attachments in a day.

 

 

Take that Cottonelle!

So concludes my treatise on toilet paper.

But let me leave you with this… when you’re a writer researching a topic for an article? I’m not sure it gets any better than being able to quote a source named Tushy.

Never let your husband bag the groceries.

 

We had to run to the grocery store for a prescription last night and I figured while we were there I’d pick up a few things.

They were still out of paper products, water and flour….

 

 

 

But all I wanted was fresh fruit and veggies anyway.

When we got to the check out line…. with the reusable bags no Mainer is ever without… we were told a new policy of self bagging had been implemented, so the husband happily jumped right in.

Yes, he put the bananas on top of the bread… and the apples on top of the lettuce but it wasn’t until we got home that the real fun began.

Did I buy oil?

No, but a large bottle came home with us.

Did I buy pistachios?

No, but they came home with us as well.

And while it was bad enough the husband rounded up and bagged someone else’s groceries? He also packed this in our bag….

 

 

Hand sanitizer.

But not another shopper’s sanitizer.

No….

 

 

He lifted one of the store use bottles they keep at each register.

Do not let your husband bag groceries.

Really…

Don’t.

I hate to admit it.

I really, really hate to admit it.

But every once in a while, the husband’s giant barn of crap treasure will yield something useful.

Case in point?

These…

That I found buried in a pile of scrap wood yesterday.

Two masks.

And not just any masks…. but the highly sought after virus blocking N 95 masks.

Treasure… in the barn!

Real treasure in these currently difficult times.

Who knew?

A bridge too far.

 

It’s bad enough my husband stops at every yard sale he sees.

 

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It’s bad enough he comes home from the dump with more than he went with.

It’s bad enough he built a giant barn and filled it with useless stuff before it was completed.

 

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But what happened the other day?

Is a bridge too far.

We woke up, had a lovely breakfast, went outside and saw something on the barn porch. I didn’t think it was a good something…

But the husband dragged it inside before it could run away.

 

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Yeah.

 

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Someone left an old sewing machine.

 

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Complete with original boxes of accessories….

 

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And owners manual… with free mouse turd. Ack!

We have no idea who committed this heinous crime…. but when I find out?

They will feel my wrath.

 

 

The husband needs no help finding old worthless junk!

So please… I beg you.

Bypass our porch and take your crap to the dump next time!

(Though not the one in our town, or any neighboring towns where he’s apt to shop.)

 

 

 

 

Oh, good grief.

 

Try as I might to avoid it, sometimes I have to go upstairs in our barn.

This usually forces me to emit a heavy sigh over the husband’s new acquisitions.

You know,  the ones he snuck in there without me noticing.

 

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While I was pleasantly surprised to see he’d done a little organizing (read – shoved everything to the sides) and the floor was visible this time….

 

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And also delighted to see a small section of crap had been put on a shelf.

A shelf!

 

 

(What? You don’t collect dusty old water stained cardboard boxes half full of rusty rivets and tacks…

Why ever not?)

A groan did escape me when I saw more bed frames….

 

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And old rusty pesticide sprayers…

 

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As well as whatever the hell this is in front of the vintage cabbage slicers.

 

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I’m thinking I should make him use that in the baby barn to level out the dirt floor.

You know, as penance for bringing the damn thing home in the first place.

 

 

I  wish I knew.

And if you’re thinking to yourself, geesh River, that didn’t look so bad…. let me point your eye downstairs where it looks like this:

 

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And this:

 

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And this:

 

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Enough said.