Spring Flinging

My husband is leaving town tonight (at 1 a.m. God what we have to do to use frequent flyer miles these days) for a few days. You know what that means, don't you?

YES! More of his pack rat piles are going into recycling, charity and the trash heap! *backflip, limping back to computer*

When we moved into this BIGGER house 3 years ago, he had loaded up his SUV with piles of metal that I thought were headed to the big recycling center. (Do not ask why we have piles of metal; no go ahead and ask. HE IS A SCROUNGER. And he is not old! If there is a pile of stuff in the "Take Me" pile in his campus at work, he lovingly goes through it and then takes stuff. It is disgusting. He comes home with 'found treasures'.) Anyway, I have the SUV on one trip back and forth, and note that I could stop at the recycling and have lots more room for actual valuable stuff next trip, no? Makes sense to me.

A large portion of the stuff was rather large chunks of pure aluminum that is used at his job to create 'stuff' (I could tell ya but I'd have to shoot ya, blah blah). Odd sized sharp pointy chunks, big wedges, weird shapes obviously scrap stuff, but big pieces. These things weighed a TON. Before I can get to those piles, I notice that there's alot of old cast iron pipe resting on them. I got to javelin one into the huge container-sized dumpster, and this voice bellows "VICKEE! Hold On!" I think, SHIT, who can this be? Turns out it was a contractor whom I'd recommended to some clients - one of the really good ones. He wanted the old pipe as he needs it during remodels, etc. Okaaaaaaaaaay...into his truck goes the pipe. We are catching up about mutual acquaintances, and I start to grunt and lob the pieces of aluminum into the dumpster container. With this, 3 guys come racing over from recycling paper and cardboard and yell "Aluminium?" I say "Yes..." but before I can answer further, my cell phone rings. It's my husband, asking what's taking me. I tell him I'm at the recycling place, recycling the metal. Big Pause. WHAT metal? Well, the pipe and the big pieces and the aluminum... "THE ALUMINUM?! NO WAY! GET IT BACK! I'm going to MAKE SOMETHING with it!" Huh?!

The 3 guys are now IN the SUV, looking over stuff but not touching anything. They are speaking Spanish, and I can tell they want that aluminum badly. I say "OOPS - that was my husband. Turns out he wants the aluminum..." and with that, they jump into this huge dumpster and haul every piece out that has made it in there, and run away with it, back to their vehicle, and go screeching and careening off.

I blink and look at the contractor - he says "Well, don't you think it's worth alot at an aluminum recycling center?" D-oh!

I got back to my house and there is the husband, fairly wringing his paws and looking worried. No smooch for me; just flings open the trunk (tail gate?) and says "Oh, thank God! There is some left!" My parents are there, and they give me questioning looks. He quickly starts stacking the metal into a section of the garage, safe from my careless toss. My parents and I go back into the house and they sigh and say "Were you able to throw anything away?" Yes, he is legendary in our family.

However, that's changing this weekend. I am going through Stuff. We have bank statements, statements from old stores, long closed; stuff that goes back 25 years. What for?! Then there's 4 sizes of pants (yes, the man has some 30's in the very back of his closet!), 2 sizes of which might ever fit. And piles and piles of junk. I will have pity on some of the piles, but the paperwork is getting shredded. He is incapable of throwing anything away. And the clothing? It's going to charity. He is taking up 2 full closets, and impinging on one of the boys' closets as well. We have under-bed boxes of too-small clothes. I doubt he even remembers any of this stuff.

This house is obscenely large, and it is junked out. Well, starting this weekend, we are putting an end to it. I am woman, watch me PURGE. (and lots of my stuff is going as well. And the boys old toys too. Maybe even some of the bunny's toys.)

Ah, this feels good!