When faced with a clutter of stuff in a house which has accumulated over the last 28 years, my father would have brought in a bulldozer - though he did not because he found value in odd things that have been rotting away. He would get upset with me at times for my approach to things as I did things over time whereas he would make one grand Herculean effort. There are times for Herculean effort, but even Hercules was smart: he redirected the river for the Aegean Stables.

So, over the last months, I have been doing one garbage bag a day. Today I could not fill a bag. I have looked. I have poked. I have prodded. I have peeked. I have found old rusting tools that will never be serviceable again. I found hinges that looked to have been saved from 1912 - and lacking a door from that year, I tossed them. I have found a plethora of empty beer bottles which have served no purpose but be an eyesore. Parts of machines kept below the house still remain if only because a bag will not hold them. Old pieces of wood, damp and mildewed, removed.

A bag a day. A husk of a house remains, very large now without decaying memories, and all I await is a lawyer to call me for the next stage of Life to continue.

Meanwhile, keep living. And switch from a bag a day to a box a day for those old rusting machine parts.

So many people lead cluttered lives, something I have always tried to avoid. Maybe its because of living in so many places, packing things to move on and performing triage on what is supposed to be kept. Some people pack everything.

I pack what I need.