On the clock

Two weeks ago the notice arrived that one of my favorite charities was going to be in our neighborhood collecting clothing. I notified the household of the date.

Since the boys are stair steps, they usually hand down to each other. This really works well with suits, dress shirts, and tuxedoes. Most of their jeans, shorts, Tees, and shoes are used up by the original owner. So really all we have to donate of their things are outgrown toys, games, and clothing the younger brother(s) don't like, but are still in good shape.

I usually spend a few hours in my closet and try on things I haven't worn in a while. It was an easy task the first year we were back in Arizona. All the cold weather stuff, snow boots, heavy coats and gloves went in the boxes along with big bulky sweaters (jumpers in the UK). I did hate to see the sweaters go because the boys look so nice in them, but they aren't practical in Phoenix and this charity has a sister operation in Flagstaff where all of those things could be useful.

Last night I didn't remember this little ritual until after hubby was asleep. So I set my alarm early to get the deed done. Me and the voice of reason went through my closet in record time. I kept hearing, "Don't even try that on. Your big toe hasn't fit into those slacks (trousers in the UK) for two years. It ain't going to happen in the next two years either -- out they go."

True enough, there was no time to be sentimental about when I wore something last. In 45 minutes I had laid everything on the bed, hung back the clothes I actually do wear, and neatly folded the ones off to find a new home. My side of the closet looks great and I feel amazing having less stuff. So from now on, I'm going to procrastinate - it is much more efficient.