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Divesting

Boxes are going to GoodWill. Many boxes. :) It feels good, and it feels sad. There are so many things I feel sad about letting go, but don't really want. All of these irrational thoughts about showing such and such to my grandchildren 100 years from now... I also feel like I'm loosing memories. For some reason, which shoebox_bird could probably explain, physical objects have a way of evoking memories beyond the ability of a written account or a picture. The _there-ness_ of an object seems to attest to the reality of the event. And so every time I take the shirt that was my uniform on my high school choir's European tour out of the closet to throw it away, I end up remembering the time I spent on Omaha beach in France, and putting it back in the closet. Many things are not surviving the moving purge though. The various ornamental tchotchkies I've accumulated from a life time of birthday parties. The clothes I badly made in high school. (Well, some of them anyway.) Books I never _ever_ want to read again! The saddest things to go so far are the geckos. I've found someone to buy the second generation that's been cropping up in the cage in that mysterious way of mixed gender enclosures, and soon I'll have to sell the first generation. Anyone want to buy a large glass terrarium full of Rhacodactylus ciliatus? Special prices to friends! ;-)