I. Hate. Clutter.
But in a house with four people, all of whom have several interests, we accumulate things. Things like a make-your-own-homebrew kit. Or a jewelry rack that isn't large enough any more. Or a dozen binders of various colors and sizes.
I usually give the house a thorough spring cleaning, but I didn't do it this year. There was no real reason why I didn't do it, but I didn't. It was probably a combination of A) hating exercises in futility, B) laziness and C) the fact that I'm just plain busy. It could also be that I enjoy making excuses for myself when the real root of the problem is that I didn't want to face all the mess.
It's not even that my house is all that messy, to be honest. I'm a firm believer in a place for everything and everything in its place (my children hate me for this), so if you ask me where to find something in the house, odds are good that I can tell you. However, I have my mother's genes, and she's one overstuffed cabinet shy of being a hoarder. She's also a neatnik, so her home is tidier than mine will ever be and you'd never, EVER know how much stuff she has in her house (until you try to fit it all in a UHaul). Anyway, I have a tendency to hang on to things. Oz doesn't see messes (this is also a genetic trait, I think, though it could be chromosomal), so he doesn't get rid of things, either. Eventually, all these little bits and pieces that have been stashed away become more than just little bits and pieces. They become, for lack of a better word, JUNK.
About this time of year, every year, I get my nose bent out of joint about all the junk. It could be that the holidays are coming and I start wondering where I'm going to put everything. It could be that the garden is dead, the grass is dying, the birds are gone, and I have to focus on what's left. It could be seasonal affective disorder. It could be a combination of all of the above. I dunno what causes it, but I do know that my poor spouse and children have to put up with me going through every cabinet, drawer, nook, cranny, and niche that rooting out all the superfluous goods that have multiplied and divided over the last year or so.
So, to my long-suffering Oz and my darling M1 and M2, I apologize in advance for what I'm about to do to you. I'm going to plunder and pillage your rooms for anything and everything that can be taken. Hang on to your hats. I'm coming.