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Dear Reader,
When I bring something new into my house, something has to go out the door. Two adults (my husband and me), five cats, appliances, furniture, electronics, quilts and chachkas, we're full up at the inn. I live in a 1925 historical home in Florida and there isn't any storage space. So there's no room for anything new--unless something old heads on down the road.
No exaggeration. I'm talkin', absolutely no (I challenge you to find some), storage space. When I lived in Wisconsin and I wanted to buy a chocolate fountain, but I didn't want it sitting on top of the kitchen counter until my next chocolate, extravaganza party six years down the road, no problem. I took it down to the basement and put it on the shelf with the other "I might need that someday" stuff. Eventually I accumulated enough "gotta have stuff" and I had a fantastic garage sale.
That's another thing that didn't come with my 1925 home--a garage. There's a 1925 carriage house, but even if I found a carriage, then I'd need horses and I'd have to feed them and they'd need a place to get out of the elements--and as I've said, "We're full-up at the Beecher Inn." Houses don't have basements in Florida either. There is a dirt crawl space underneath my house that I can access from a trap door in the floor of my hallway. But the only person who suits up "...to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before..." is the yearly termite inspector. (He does tell me I have the cleanest crawl space he's ever been in. When I'm hard up for a compliment and need cheering up, I reflect on those words.)
There are four closets in my house, but they are teeny-tiny, and one of them has the piping for an air conditioner in it, another houses my water heater, and one is a linen closet. Which leaves one closet for me, and to this day, I'm not sure where my husband stores his clothes.
Most things I think I need, I really don't, so I'm pretty careful about what I decide to buy. But sometimes the flesh is weak and "it" convinces me, I really need "it" and that I will use it all the time, and if I look real hard, I will find a little empty place to store it. But I realize the truth. What's really going to happen is I'll use "it" once, and then I'll put it somewhere and I'll forget where "it" is. Then some day, years from now, I'll discover "it" when I decide to clean out my sock drawer, or look underneath the bed. There the forgotten "it" will be and I'll fondly recall the one and only time I used "it"(it has an emotional hold on me), and I'll keep it, because you never know when "it" could come in handy again. After all, a neighbor might knock on the door, asking if she can borrow a cup of sugar and an "it."
I love it when I can help someone out.
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
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