I’m A Keeper

Wine Before Five

Because Life is Good, & Sweet & Short


& the Ordinary is Extraordinary 






I’m A Keeper

OK, we’ve all heard the advice: if you haven’t worn it in the past 12 months, toss it. Give it away, throw it away. Whatever; you don’t need it.

My system for organizing and sorting is well-thought out and fault-free. I began weeks ago: I emptied my closets, I emptied my drawers. I washed everything. I stacked and sorted. Then I kind of let things ferment for a while. First on the floor of one bedroom, currently not in use. Then, making progress, I moved things to the floor of the guest room, which I know will be occupied by my sister in two weeks, so I can’t put off the sorting more than one week. It’s my own form of encouragement by creating a deadline for myself.

I took three large stacks of clothes into my own bedroom and placed them carefully on the bed. I brought in colored trash bags, carefully saved paper shopping bags, black trash bags for genuine trash, and a black Sharpie marker for labeling. I am nothing if not organized. I planned to be heartless, relentless in my determination to have streamlined, organized, useful closets. And I began to sort.

Aw, I love this sweater! It has to stay – it’s frayed at the hem, and has Clorox stains on it, but it’s so soft and comfy and really broken-in just right. And these jeans? Look at those frayed hems! I earned those when I was so thin that they dragged on the floor and Wilt referred to me as “The Incredible Shrinking Woman.” I need those – they boost my self-esteem.

I’m terrible at this. I look at things, think “This is like throwing away money! I love this navy sweater; I don’t care if I have five navy sweaters. I don’t want to give up this hoodie even if a puppy chewed a hole in the pocket – it reminds me of her; it’s my “Lucky” hoodie. And these shoes? What would I wear with grey slacks if not these? I mean, if I actually had grey slacks…

Oh, yeah, I’m terrible at this.

Maybe I just need a larger closet. But why? All I like to wear are jeans with navy tees or navy sweaters. Really. For me, “dressed up” is khakis with a navy top. Or black. And for really dressy occasions, black dress pants with a black top.

 Finally, I parted with a few things I never really liked. They weren’t navy tops, jeans, khakis or black anythings anyway. I ended up with about 12 items in one small bag to give away. I gazed at the guest room floor. There was no visible dent in the stacks of clothes.

 Sorry, clothes and closets, I was born to Depression-Era parents. Make do, use it up, wear it out. And then make it into rags. So I’m going to blame my parents for all these things I cannot part with.


I’m not a hoarder. I’m a Keeper.





About winebeforefive

"If I had my life to live over... But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back." -- Erma Bombeck “If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. i'll always be with you.” -- from Winnie the Pooh “I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.” -- Laura Ingalls Wilder “Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.” -- Dr. Seuss
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2 Responses to I’m A Keeper

  1. Ah, Emma, my mother’s favorite line….”I’m a keeper”. She was DEFINATELY a hoarder. But, bless your little heart, you just think however you want.

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