My house is filled with chachkies...crap, if you ask Steve. And while much of it has not seen the light of day since the great house renovation of 2006, it still lurks in boxes all around the house, singing the siren call of old habits to me...begging me to place them out on every available flat surface. I have, so far, resisted the urge. But I am left wondering what I am to do with all the boxes of...well...crap.
See, I have this problem. I attach emotional meaning to every single gift ever given to me. My memories are intricately tied to the items that sit on the mantle and the bookshelf and the coffee table and...et cetera...et cetera...et cetera.
There's the spun glass heart on the musical mirrored stand that was given to me by an eccentric friend of my mothers at my bridal shower. For the life of us, we can't even remember how she got invited in the first place. So that always makes me smile.
There's the charming white wicker garden tricycle that I'm sure was once used as a small planter...given to me by my crazy grandma one year in my Christmas bag of "crap." I have no idea why she thought I would like it and I have no idea why I like it since it is totally not my style. But there you have it.
There's the ugly vase that was given to Steve and I as a wedding gift by a widowed friend of Steve's family (who I have never met). When it arrived, it didn't have a gift receipt...just the actual receipt...and we were shocked to learn that he had spent $66 on this ugly vase. Who spends $66 on a vase? Of course, that was back when Steve and I could live off $66 for quite a while. So we keep it as a reminder...of what, I'm not sure.
But this morning I gave something away! As a gift. A re-gift. The someone I gave it to has no way of ever even meeting the person who gave it to me so I feel relatively safe in that regard. And the someone who gave me the gift in the first place apparently doesn't know me all that well, since the meaning behind the gift was a bit confusing and I was left feeling no real attachment to the item. No, I'm not going to say what it is or who it was from or who I gave it to. I am afraid I would be outed as a re-gifter and hurt someones feelings if I did that. It would have to take an elaborate game of telephone for the original gift giver to ever know, as I don't think she reads here...but I don't even want to risk hurting anyones feelings.
So this is me. Feeling relief at being able to confess. Feeling guilt at re-gifting. Feeling happy I was able to make someone smile with my re-gift (and clear out SOME of the crap). Feeling embarrassed because I did admit the re-gift status to him. All of this over one chachkie. Good grief. I think I better find some plastic storage bins to store the rest in. If I even attempt give them all away I just might have a complete mental breakdown. (No smart remarks about that Steve...I KNOW what you're thinking.)
I had a nice long photo post about our wonderfully relaxing weekend and Blogger would let me post the photos. Since the photo post loses something without the photos, I opted for this lame post. I heartily apologize.