Rubbish

I've been thinking lately about simplifying my life.  I have a lot of crap.  I'm not a hoarder....yet.  But close.  I have begun to post some vintage items on my Etsy store just to clear out.  Things are nice but memories are better and I have decided to sell many of my things in the hopes of going to France. 

I like the things I have that have a memory attached to them.  Like my Grandma's cow cookie jar.  It's not really my Grandma's but the act of love my mother went through to get it for me is unbelievable and now it means more to me than the my Grandma's would at this point. 

My big problem is I love to go rubbish collecting.  I even love to say the word.  Rubbish.  It's such a fun word and just rolls off my lips.  Maybe it's my English heritage.  I can't get enough of auctions, garage sales, junk stores, etc.  I think the memories I have of junk collecting rank right up there with some of my best times.  Maybe because I'm never alone in the act.  My friends or family seem to enjoy it almost as much as I do. 

Even as a young girl, my best friend and I used to go into vacant old homes and see what was left behind.  We would scour the local dump for things we didn't consider "trash" but someone threw out.  We had a ball!  Who at age 8 has an antique collection?!  Too bad we didn't keep our stuff from back then!  Maybe it would be worth some whopping number and I wouldn't have to get rid of all my rubbish to fund a trip to France after all.  Then again, my point of simplifying would never happen either.  Oh rubbish!