There comes the day when you wake up and say, "Well - how did I get here?"
(Apologies to the Talking Heads.)
But it's true - one day, you look around the house and go to bed thinking, "Hmm. I could really stand to do some work around the house." And that continues until the day you wake up the next morning and look around the house and say, "Dear heaven, no decent person would live like this!"
I'm nearly there.
I'm not a hoarder - well, certainly not in the pathological, let's-have-a-show-on-A&E-which-by-the-way-has-next-to-nothing-relevant-to-either-arts-or-entertainment-anymore sort of way. But I am a stacker of clutter and I've reached the point of needing to be willing to take a long, hard look at myself and say, "Self, the stacks are out of control. Time to sort, straighten, and yes, toss."
This is one (of the many) reasons I'm not such a hotshot gardener - I don't like to prune things back. I know it's for the long-term good, but I have a hard time with it.
But I just don't need two dozen butter tubs, even if they are clean and perfectly useful for - well, for something. So they've gotta go!
Wish me luck.