For a while now, I've thought that we, as a family of three, have too much stuff.
And by that, I mean in the physical sense.
Books, cushions, framed photos, scrapbook stash {ahem}, clothes, etc.
My mum, who lived alone for the last 20 years of her life, had too much stuff.
A three-bedroom house of stuff.
And what happens to it all when you're gone? It's given away to family and friends,
thereby increasing how much stuff they themselves have, or it goes to the charity shop.
I even marked the pages where I thought she made perfect sense.
My goal for the rest of this year is make a dent in the amount of stuff we have ...
before we are buried under it.
{A slight exaggeration, but you get my meaning}
I don't want our home to be a minimalist home,
nor do I want it to be stuffed to the gunnels.
I'd like it to be somewhere in between,
where everything is used and has a purpose.