You can do it!

I opened the "junk room" door today. Do you have one of those monstrous things? I was afraid to look to long for fear that I would get depressed. It's one of those rooms in the house that you pitch everything to sort out later. I have been waiting for "sorting day" to come. Really, it is supposed to be a sewing/ironing and scrap-booking room. I thought someday I would get it organized. I have a pile of stuff to go, one to decide whether to go or not, boxes of books etc. to go through, some stuff the kids wanted to store for a "little while. "Can anyone tell me what a little while is?" They don't seem to know. No- what I am really waiting for is a mood, a certain mood, that if I don't care ever see this stuff again- and then just start pitching. But I need to get it out the door! I mean the outside door and out of sight so I won't change my mind. Now I know the silly stuff is nothing but sentimental and it is sooo hard for me to let go. It's like letting the last child go when they start school. It hurts, it aches so much that if I start thinking of who gave it to me - I just might start crying. So how do I get this stuff out? Just wait for the mood or start throwing into bags to take out? I seem to have a big problem with this particular room. If you have any good suggestions please let me know! I sure would like to look in there and just see my sewing cabinet, ironing board and clothes that need ironing in neat piles. I even bought the three department bin to keep ironing separate. Maybe, just maybe - I need to shovel it all out and start over! Maybe I should take the "dare" of this little poem. Somebody said it couldn't be done, but he, with a chuckle, replied. That 'maybe it couldn't, ' but he would be one who wouldn't say so till he tried. So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin on his face. If he worried he hid it. He started to sing as he tackled the thing - that couldn't be done and he did it. Somebody scoffed, O you'll never do that, at least no one has ever done it; But he took off his coat and he took off his hat and the first thing we knew - he'd begun it. With a lift of the chin and a bit of a grin, without any doubting or quitting; He started to sing as he tackled the thing that couldn't be done and he did it. There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done, there are thousands who prophesy failure. There are thousands to point out to you one by one - the dangers that wait to assail you. But just buckle in with a bit of a grin, then take off your coat and go to it. Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing - that cannot be done -- and you'll do it. I chuckled to myself as I typed this poem. Now - what coat will I wear and what hat will go with it? I got it! I can go to the thrift store and find what I need! But, wait a minute - Me thinks that may be the part of the trouble! I just wonder how many thrift things are in that room? Guess the only way to find out is to tackle it! Oh yes, I have to sing! But would someone please tell me how? Better than that - you are invited to come help me do it. I might have to put blinders on and let you do the pitching. I just know the e-mail will be filled up by tomorrow! LOL