I found a mound of little soap bits in one hidden corner of a bathroom, a collection made by someone who uses soap bars to bathe with. There was a drawer full of empty health supplement bottles. Somebody's room had a book entitled "How to Choose Secondary Schools". Old ring files with rusty clasps filled up another shelf. There were unrecognizable odds and ends of questionable provenance which someone said had sentimental value, and another claimed they could be used to make useful contraptions. Somehow Gentle Joy had stored away an old broom and a broken pail. And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why she keeps opened packets of flour and nuts (with a bit only left in each) at the BACK of the kitchen cupboard. Every single plastic spoon and plastic take away container was also squirreled away. Even Milo, I found, had his stash. He had somehow managed to store away little bits of his weekly knucklebone in the little space between the iron grille gate and the glass door.
I told somebody that when he/she gets old and lives alone, people would likely find his/her corpse in the middle of a room piled high with junk. And by the time the discovery would be made, he/she would be in advanced stages of decomposition. I made someone else cry when I threw away the broken market trolley. Someone had wanted to build something nice with the old wheels. I secretly got rid of the bottles of red wine from 3 years ago stored in less than ideal conditions. We opened a few last month and knew that many had turned to vinegar. Yet, The Husband would not let me throw. I threw them away today. The Husband will find out but by then it'll be quite the fait accompli. The mound of soap bits went down the chute much to the muffled consternation of the soap bar user. Milo looked at me reproachfully when I cleared his stash of knucklebone bits.
I last did this whirlwind of find and throw when the children were little. Back then, I found pieces of dried apple in The Daughter's underwear drawer. She had squirreled them deep under her underclothes to eat later.
Back then too, I had made myself unpopular with everyone. I offended every near and rather near relative. There were sulks and tears and for a long time, someone kept repeating that I should not have thrown away the present he/she had bought one of the kids even though the thing was broken and the kid no longer plays with it. Since then, one child assured me that he/she was quite capable of spring cleaning in his/her own room. I have for 8 years respected the karung guni ways of everyone else and refused to look at the growing mess. I wanted people to like me you see.
But I can't take it anymore.
Not one of those warm fuzzy feelings do I now give a hoot.
Much will be said when THINGS Petunia gives the boot.
Against every teary protest, I will stamp my foot.
For every reproachful look, I will an angry stare shoot.
Defenders of junk will sprawl where they would
Once Petunia has kicked them where she should
Petunia has endured as much as she could
And will ruthlessly clear the Lee Family loot!
I will do this every year. Get used to it.