Embracing the Clutter

In light of our recent change in circumstances, one of the discussions we've had is whether it makes any sense to pick up stakes and move to a smaller place locally.

I still recall when we moved my mother-in-law in with us and all of the detritus my husband's folks had accumulated over the course of 40 years.

We've lived here 26 years, but we've collected enough stuff to make the prospect of moving daunting, indeed.

Props to Ryan and his wife, who sold their house and most of their belongings, bought a truck and RV, and hit the open road. Alas, Mr. Ginley and I are beyond the age of adventure, at least to that extent.

"Would you ever consider living in a tiny house?" my beloved asked me the other day. "I couldn't stand living in a space that small."

"I could for a night or two. Or if I was living alone," I mused. "But with another person? No way. I'd end up smothering them in their sleep."

What about an apartment or condo? It would depend on the rent, but in all likelihood, it would cost us more than what we are paying to live where we are now. And condos always have those nasty monthly upkeep fees, which can go up and up.

Also, we'd have to do some work on the house before we could put it on the market. And get rid of many of our prized possessions (i.e. books).

Although...

In today's newspaper there is a story about a new library they're building with several floors of apartments above. Mr. Ginley has often said he dreams of living in a library. This might be the next best thing.

I suspect, however, the curators would get tired of having to throw him out every night.

So, here we will stay, comfortably surrounded by the things we know and love.