This spring has taken my usual efforts to remove the dust and clutter to a new level. The move of a household across several states requires some very deep cleaning.

It’s been ten years since I’ve moved. Recently, after shredding the fifth box of papers from the year 2000, I really began to wonder what causes us to buy and keep some of the ridiculous things that we do.

Bottles of vitamins and potions, stand shoulder-to-shoulder, bearing promises of health and vitality. Though months have gone by since their expiration date, they remain in their  little rows,  waiting to be consumed. Until now.

Sometime during the past ten years I went to the land of homemade hummus. However, after the food processor spewed masticated garbanzo and tahini over the kitchen counter I haven’t gone back. That must have been about the same time I decided I would rather go quietly to the health food store and buy it ready for my enjoyment. It appears that instead of admitting I really don’t have to make hummus from scratch, I conveniently hid the twelve cans of garbanzo beans behind the two bags of flour. And that is where they stayed.

One never knows when you need a valentine card that says I love you. But my need for keeping-things-for-the-sake-of-having-it-just-in-case reached a new low when boxes of the kid’s leftover valentine cards fell on my head. Heck, it only took eight years and a household move to make me dump them.

Even the dogs have amassed a stockpile of half-chewed toys. I have to ask. What makes us buy all the stupid stuff? Let’s admit it. Seriously? How many dogs really want a snuggie?

Once the process of “move cleaning” begins I start playing the game of, if I haven’t touched it or cared about it in five years, it’s out of here.

By the third day, and multiple trips to the donation bags and the trash can, I realized I should have invested in more trash bags.  I itch to head to the computer to look up the cost of a mega dumpster.

By the fifth day, the rules of the game have changed. I justify my tossing tactics, judging by the layers of dust that no one will miss the statue of an eagle Nana gave us  the last time we saw her. This majestic eagle, covered in stars and stripes, will never grace the inside of our home. Why do I keep it? Because it was a gift?

Once the tossing machine has started rolling that ball cannot be stopped. Everything can go! Even the patriotic eagle. Because the moving van will eventually be on its way and I don’t want to touch another item by myself.

I have a few more weeks of this cleaning thing. My next step is figuring out what I don’t need for six months.

Oddly enough, the tossing gets easier. Almost too easy. It boggles the mind when I stop to think on the amount of money spent on obtaining. Now I must spend more to rid myself of the baggage and clutter.

I can’t help wondering how the economy is in a weakened state. I did my fair share of supporting it!