Stuff And The Storage Thereof.

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Almost three years ago we gave away a whole heap of stuff, packed all the remaining stuff that we couldn't possibly live without into a storage shed in western Queensland, and proceeded to live for three years with what we could carry in the car.  Our stuff mouldered through freezing winters, mouse plagues, and roasting summers in its tin shed in Roma and we rarely thought about it.

Eventually my clothes started wearing out, which wasnt surprising given I was wearing the same 3 t-shirts on rotation for three years and couldn't bring myself to buy more clothes when I knew I had boxes of perfectly good duds in storage.  Not that t-shirts in a box 3000km away were much good to me when the worn-out T-shirts reached the fine line between shabby chic and no longer decent.

Roger was in the same boat, with rather more of himself than was necessary poking out through holes that weren't in the original pattern for his clothes.  We decided we needed a storage shed in South Australia and quickly discovered that storage sheds in South Australia were as scarce as hens' teeth and rather more expensive than hens' teeth would be, should they be something that could be bought.  Then by happy chance we stumbled upon a storage shed flying under the radar, so to speak, in a little town where not many people went and even less went there looking for storage options. 

In short order we had a storage shed which was close enough to water that I got all excited about buying a kayak to put in the storage shed, but that had to wait for a bit because all our stuff was riding the train to Adelaide where it jumped on a truck and met us bright and early in the morning for a heartfelt reunion.

This was just like opening a very large Christmas present!

Strong men ran back and forth while we watched with increasing surprise at what, three years ago, we had decided we couldn't possibly live without.

Old carpet mats.  A squashed laundry basket.  A toothbrush and an empty glasses case.  Chipboard shelf sets crumbling to dust, with messages of teenage angst etched into them by our children over a decade ago...

$5 Kmart pedestal fans...

Roger was aghast. "I can't believe we paid good money to bring this junk down here."  He looked sadly at the plastic laundry basket.  "At $280/cubic metre that laundry basket just became very valuable."

Talk about food miles: here we have toothbrush miles!

The strong men waved goodbye and left us with our storage shed full of boxes full of stuff we weren't sure we wanted any more. We opened a box and found not t-shirts but things that made us question the sanity of our past selves. It was all too hard so we shut the box, locked up the shed, and took the thermos down to the lake for a nice cup of tea while we planned our attack on the stuff.  We couldn't just ignore it because there was still the small matter of the worn out t-shirts and my need to look vaguely respectable for an upcoming work trip. Not to mention the fact that matter, as everyone knows, expands to fill a vacuum and we had a vacuum in the shape of a storage shed which was only 2/3 full and as we conducted our planned purge would get emptier and therefore attract more stuff matter.   Kayaks aside (because that's different, of course) the challenge was to resist the urge to get more stuff, just because now we had somewhere to put it and it's always possible to talk oneself into really needing another something-or-other to put in one's storage shed.

Do we have the strength to resist this challenge?

Only time will tell.

Flower to enjoy while not thinking about stuff.




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