Digging Into the Depths

Yesterday, I began to dig into the depths of my linen closet. Your linen closet is probably neat and arranged nicely, everything you need in plain sight and easy to reach. I had everything I could need in mine; not only that, I had much more than I need. I may look like a plain, ordinary person, but beneath my normal exterior, I’m a pack rat. Old quilts of mine and my mother’s were in that closet. Sheets, pillowcases, and blankets I’d accrued for years–not purposely, but, they just happened. If there was something in my house that I couldn’t find a place for, it would go into the linen closet.

Now, a reckoning was at hand. The closet worried me. It bore on my mind. So, yesterday, I opened the doors and looked at the overwhelming inside. How did so many things get into one small space? That’s a real life mystery.

I had no idea I had that many pillowcases. And, where did that old purse come from? The hand crocheted pieces were pretty and they’d have to stay, no matter what else had to go. Aha! A crocheted hat! That might come in handy this winter. But, how did everything go onto the shelves? There was only one answer–inflation! Or, multiplication, or something like that. Anyway, whatever it is when there’s a rapid increase of articles in a linen closet.

So, now, I’ll sort through. That’s the hard part. I’ll close my eyes to any feelings of kinship coming from close association through the years. I’ll give away excess stuff to someone who might be able to put it to use, rather than just storing it away. A hardening of the heart is in order and a closing of the eyes to sentimentality. Except, of course, for the quilts and the hand-embroidered items, and the crochet, and…sigh. I do have good intentions, though.