100 Things and Genetics

It all began with an off-the-cuff comment my dad made, "Did you hear about the guy...100 things..." Immediately questions came, en mass like grackles at dusk, with the most potentially terrifying one first - "What about books?!" (I am an admitted bibliophile). Then, with a 6 member family which includes 4 boys, "Are the washer and dryer included in my count of 100 things or do shared items not count?" (I am way beyond imagining myself down at the local stream beating our clothing on a rock to clean them, let alone actually doing it!).

Others followed: What about furniture?, Minor "collections" like socks, underwear, shoes, pots and pans?, Literally 100 things, Dad?...He must have been blasted back to the days of my childhood because his response was, "I don't know, Paula. Why don't you look it up?" (I hated it when he told me that when I needed to know how to spell a word). I did look it up...

Go to http://www.guynameddave.com/100-thing-challenge.html to see "official" rules.

Today I decided to "kill two birds with one stone" (1) doing what I can to (2) whittle myself down to 100 personal things, beginning with my clothes closet. As I was going through my clothing, some of which I have not worn since living in MA (12 years ago), and struggling with what to give the heave-ho to, I wondered if all that was going to come of this was the realization that I am going to have to join a 12-step group for hoarders! Then I remembered the man who enlightened me to this challenge, my dad, and his stacks and stacks of papers. (More on that later). The proverbial light bulb went on - genetics!

I am the product of some seriously deep-rooted genes birthed in the depression. My Bupshe (paternal grandmother) didn't throw ANY THING out - Styrofoam trays, berry baskets, tomato cages, canned goods, tattered clothing, paycheck stubs, etc. When she was unable to live on her own, we had the privilege of cleaning out her house. Oh the things we found! Treasured items, like dishes, linens, and trinkets, Bubshe saved for good, never to be used and enjoyed. Oh the things we tossed! Papers, stacks and stacks of Styrofoam and canned food; I do believe that we are personally responsible for saving untold lives simply because we threw out jarred spaghetti sauce (it shouldn't be brown, right?).

Back to those stacks and stacks of papers my dad had. In MA there were piles, 3 feet high, on three sides of a 10 x 12 room. Talk to him about any random thing and he would disappear only to reappear with an obscure article found somewhere in one of those piles pertaining to that random thing. What is more impressive, the fact that he remembered he had an article about whatever it was or that he remembered where it was? When my parents were in the process of moving here, my mom was very concerned with what the weight of those piles were going to add to the moving cost should he not be able to throw them out. She shouldn't have worried, though he did not get rid of them, he did whittle them down, as the stacks in their new garage give testimony.

The thing with genetics is that some get the gene(s), some don't. I got the hoarding gene, my sister didn't, lucky her. I am left to wrestle with my genetics as I power through what to keep and what not to. So, in the spirit of the challenge, I am:
*counting "collections" - books, clothing, shoes, sewing, etc. - as one item for now but trying to pear them down to a manageable lot (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree)
*keeping a count of the items I am getting rid of - 50 articles of clothing from today's grueling exercise (I wonder if I'll be sore tomorrow?)
*unearthing treasured items and using them (ridding myself of that gene)
*celebrating shared items (simply because they don't count on my 100 personal things list)

By the way, Dad would not take me up on my challenge, "Want to see who can get to 100 personal things first, Dad?"...