Oh, I have been a slacker of late, at least in the blogworld. In real life, I have gotten started with the semester. Today, though, I found myself in a thrift store. Why?
As Sir John Falstaff, a much-loved Shakespearean slacker, says to Prince Hal, a faux-slacker who will become King Henry V; "A question to be asked." Why, if I am in need of decluttering, am I subjecting myself to temptation, in the name of relaxation and saving money?
This has been a constant question to be asked. Such questions become more urgent around New Year's Day, not to mention my birthday of a few days ago. On my birthday, I received a beautiful gift; it lifts my heart every time I look at it.
Since this object is so beautiful, I decided to share some of my overabundance with others and so brought a big bag of very nice excess stuff to the thrift. That was good, but then, of course, I had to take a tiny peek. If I buy one item per week (which would be easy enough), I would amass 50 items per year. My beautiful gift would be buried in clutter!
So my last (for the moment) rude question: about how many new clothing items enter your space each year? I need a sense of what normal people do.
A question to be asked.