Like many newlyweds, John and I were poor in possessions, but rich in time together. We didn't have a vacuum cleaner - we didn't need one. I cleaned our one, tiny rug with a dust pan and brush.



Since then our hearts have had sixteen homes, but it's been much easier moving our hearts than moving our increasing amount of possessions. What once fit in a U-Haul trailer - the smallest U-Haul trailer - expanded to require bigger and bigger moving vans.

Having more and more things to vacuum, dust and polish slowly taught me less is more - more time for me.

Unfortunately, John is a saver - a genetic predisposition. His father never threw away a can of paint and his mother had a junk drawer stuffed with unidentifiable pieces to who knows what, but which had to be saved in case they were needed some day.

Although I've given John my love, the best years of my life - so far - and two healthy, well-adjusted offspring - considering their genetic makeup - it hasn't been enough.

Because of John's insatiable need for space, I've had to give him the drawers in the dining room sideboard - which held silverware and serving dishes until I gave them away - two bookcases, half of my closet and the entire garage. The only available storage space not used by John is the wastebaskets.

The laundry room is the only room that is still mine, but he could have that if he'd also take the laundry and have it back, clean and folded, the next day.

Unlike my husband, I think of giving things away as purging myself of unneeded burden. My motto is, "Don't dust it if you don't need it".

Because it's out with the old to make for the new, I have enough give-aways for an impressive, annual, garage sale. I don't have garage sales because John would be my best customer.

Of course, I can't give away things from family and friends, who expect to see the symbols of their unique thoughtfulness whenever they visit. However, I don't have to take them out from hiding until they visit.

If you do this, keep track of whom gave you what. I thought Cousin Walter had given us the day-glo, heart-shaped, lava light.