You’ve heard the phrase ‘too much of a good thing? I’m convinced it flew out of the mouth of someone surrounded by boxes.
Since the mid-summer in-house plumbing issue, the list of things to go through beyond the affected areas has seeped – just like water – into every room, corner, and closet. After 24 years in our house, I fear we’ll still be sorting and tossing for the next 24 or until Jesus returns, whichever comes first.
With mid-summer turned to autumn, we’re down to those few remaining Saturday afternoons of mild temps and shirt sleeves. You’ve also heard the old adage that ‘one thing leads to another’? As part of our continuing education in post-soggy home cleanup, my husband and I ventured out where angels fear to tread.
My husband stared at, I mean, started on his to-do list and I stepped into the boxing ring. It was time to put the gloves on! (Which will help protect your hands from cardboard cuts and spider webs. Coaching tip #1, said dryly).
Four months earlier there were not enough boxes to contain everything that had to be temporarily stored. So I spent one June afternoon on a box hunt. (It’s true…the liquor stores have the best boxes for books – not too big so you can actually lift them. Coaching tip #2, for imbibers and non-imbibers alike).
Come October, they had multiplied like rabbits behind that garage door. I ask you, how many boxes does a person need? A box for everything & everything in a box? Not.
I started boxing.
First, I took swings at the obvious. Empty boxes that had no lids and were bent or caved in, or were ginormous (translated as too big to lift if anything was put in them or, a space hog. Coaching tip #3).
Next to go were shoeboxes – which I had been saving since a retreat seven years ago. Well, not those actual shoeboxes – they got used. But the idea I needed to save shoeboxes never dislodged from my brain. (It helps when cleaning out boxes to ask yourself, “Am I planning on building a fort, for cryin’ out loud?” I mean, “Why am I saving this/so many?” Coaching tip #4).
Nowhere last and certainly not least were boxes that were falling apart at the flaps. One was packed with ‘precious treasure’ (ok, so what do you call it?). Upon trying to pick it up (see Coaching tip #3), its portly size was just too much. All that treasure was falling out the bottom. That box went nowhere fast.
Finally I was down to a useable, manageable pile of championship boxes. I’d bare-knuckled (what gloves?) the lightweights and got in a stiff upper cut before I could be KO’d by the heavyweights.
Then the real fun began. Sorting, tossing, re-boxing, and organized storage systemizing kicked in. (Just for the record, we’re not done and Jesus hasn’t returned yet. We have more to do).
So, what flavor of ‘boxing ring’ are you dealing with in your Pie of Life these days?
Yours may not be playing with boxes and other things lurking in the garage, but if you have a life, you have a pie.
Which slice is competing loudest for your attention screaming, “Pick me!”? (or sitting there like a box of rocks every time you walk by…)
It’s great to have a ringside seat while someone else is in the cage duking it out (with or without gloves). Sooner or later, though, your round is bound to come up.
Like ours did. (Check your plumbing connections. Coaching tip #5).
Or, if you’d like to ease into this over a cup of coffee and figure out how and where to start, I’d love to hear from you. You bring the pie.
P.S. Stay tuned for details about an upcoming teleconference book group designed around this and other issues of over-abundance. You’re welcome pre-announcement to call (509.290.6810) or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org for more info.
Photo courtesy of Pixabay Free Images with PicMonkey enhancements