Tag Archives: hoarding

If only I could talk the husband into this….

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As previously mentioned, my husband has stuff.

A lot of stuff.

So much *ucking stuff.

It’s stuff he refuses to donate or throw out, and we know he’ll never get around to selling it…. no matter how hard it is to maneuver around the piles.

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But he does like to give things away now and then…. so when I saw this on Facebook? An evil chuckle escaped my lips.

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I love this idea!

Please include your physical address with your comment. Something old and utterly useless could be coming your way.

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Pandemic humor.

Because it’s still here and we still to need to laugh.

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I don’t consider myself at all anti social, but Covid has certainly made me realize how much I enjoy my own company. I never disagree with myself, annoy myself or get in my own way. Ya gotta love that.

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Proof positive pandemics can make some things easier.

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I do feel sorry for the kids. They’re missing out on so many once in a lifetime experiences. But on the plus side, by the time they finally do go back to class? They’ll be old enough to buy beer.

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I shouldn’t laugh at this, I’m still only halfway through my stockpile.

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This one is a little old, but I missed it. 2020 won? That’s uncanny.

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Hey, at this point I say whatever works.

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If there’s an award for the world’s most patient wife…

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I should win it.

Hands down.

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Because I’ve been looking at this mess for…. count them…. 37 frickin’ days.

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This giant load of useless crap was belched from my husband’s closet in the den on December 8th when he needed to climb up in the attic.

I didn’t bitch, it was a necessity.

And since he had the next 30 days off work because he didn’t take any vacation in 2020, I figured he would deal with it at his leisure.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

I didn’t bitch a week later when it was still there.

But two weeks later? I was bitching silently in my head.

Three weeks later? I was bitching in my sleep.

Four weeks later? I was bitching opening while plotting his slow, but quite painful demise.

It’s only today, 37 frickin’ days later, the day before he goes back to work….

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That he decided to deal with it. Of course it’s not a matter of simply putting things back in the closet. No. That would be too simple. Instead, each and every item must be fully examined and then brought to me for the desired but never realized “Gee, that’s swell. I wish you had 6 more just like it!” response.

Then he leaves the item in front of me with hopes that I’ll look it up and find it’s worth thousands of dollars.

FYI? The Moosehead beer mirror my husband knew was a vintage bar collectible?

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Turned out to be a carnival prize worth $10.

As I type he’s knee deep in a stack of tattered Look magazines from the 60’s.

This clean up may take a while.

Another 37 days is not out of the realm of possibility.

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*Update – 5 hours later? The room is still littered with crap and there’s a ladder in the hallway.

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Good times.

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She’s a clever little b*tch.

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Before the snow fell, our resident rodent pest from Hell. red squirrel was busy.

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Stealing seed from the birds and apples from the deer.

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Seeds were stuffed in every conceivable hole and our deck looked like a fruit salad exploded.

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But after the first snow storm?

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She was a happy camper.

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And remembered most of her stash spots.

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Im sure that fruit tasted good.

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She’s annoying.

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But clever.

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The good, the bad, and the rude.

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As you know (from reading this) I am not a fan of the photo Christmas card. But this year? There were a few that made even me smile…. and in the interest of fair play I’m posting them.

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Clever people who went the extra mile this season.

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Is it wrong I’m as jealous as Hell of that fort?

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I feel you momma.

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A wee bit dark, but I get it.

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This cracked me up. The photoless photo card.

A fitting tribute to 2020.

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A bit embarrassing, that.

But along with the funny ones… there were some I found to be in bad taste.

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I’m no prude, but toilet humor at Christmas might be a bridge too far.

And this last one?

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No. Just no…

To celebrate and encourage your young daughter to flip off your friends and family?

I don’t care how rotten 2020 was, that’s not my idea of festive.

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Pandemic humor

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Laughing.

You need to do it…. so it might as well be here.

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I knew I was totally blameless! Now if someone would just tell my waistline…

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If we haven’t, we should .

Like right now.

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Karen. Still causing trouble…

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Not yet mind you, but come January it’s entirely possible.

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I saw a woman buy 13 bottles of bleach last week.

They walk among us.

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Operation clean out has begun.

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The construction and finish work on the Barn Mahal was finally done, so it was time for a major clear out.

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Giant piece of paint covered glass from the kitchen porch he replaced 5 years ago… which he’ll never use again but must be saved?

Check.

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The large wagon wheel frames my girlfriend gave me that I wanted to use as barn decoration?

Check.

But make no mistake, clear out does not mean throw out.

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It means stuffing things in every possible nook and cranny he can find.

Over the cars in the garage? Yes.

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In the newly remodeled and previously almost empty baby barn?

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Of course.

In the tiny room on the side of the wood shed?

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Naturally.

In the wood shed itself?

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Why not.

Those frameless doors he picked up at the dump because they’re free and he could?

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In between the motorcycles and covered with a dirty towel is the perfect spot.

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And lastly, things migrated upstairs in the barn itself.

Because, you know…. there’s soooo much room up there.

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And people wonder why I drink.

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Who is this man and what have you done with my husband?

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It’s beginning to feel like Invasion of the Body Snatchers up at Casa River.

There’s a pod here somewhere…. I know it.

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It’s the only possible explanation for why you can currently see the floor… and walls!…. of our garage.

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The look alike alien husband removed the rattle trap archaic blower which was here when we moved in.

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He even *gasp* hung things up. Look, little shelves with neatly coiled tie down straps! Be still my heart.

And then? Excuse me while I reach for my smelling salts… he took his prized 400 lb antique potato planter out of the big barn.

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He loaded it on his truck.

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And gave it to our town’s historical society!

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(I think I may have passed out at this point.)

And just when I was sure my husband had been replaced by an otherworldly facsimile…

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I found him back in the garage knee deep in this.

Delicate apparatus?

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Well, not quite.

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Box full of rusty old tools that haven’t worked since Christ was a Corporal?

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There he is!

Welcome back honey. I missed you…