We have decided that we have cheap drywall in our big master bedroom closet. The clothesracks have fallen more than once, and even after my dad helped us to over-engineer them so they WOULDN’T fall. At least it wasn’t the screws that failed this time. The whole section where it was attached to the drywall ripped out. And not even because the clothes were too heavy — I was reaching to get an empty duffle bag off the top shelf, and the pressure of my hand as I reached up made the whole thing collapse. Quite funny, really. “Um, Jerry? Jerry? Can you come help me, please? Jerry? JERRY?!”

And it’s not that we’re particular clotheshorses. We’re not. We have a goodly amount of clothes, sure, but I know lots of people who are MUCH worse than we are, and their closets don’t fall down. That said, I’m going to be relentless tomorrow about getting rid of stuff that I wore before I got pregnant with Helen — my body shape has changed so much from having kids that even if I starved myself for months, I don’t think I’d ever be able to get back into some of those skirts and dresses. And anyway, why would I want to? Some of them are over 10 years old — styles don’t hang around that long. Purple Heart is coming by our house on Tuesday morning, and I hope to have Quite The Pile of stuff to donate.

So. Jerry and I are now in the process of deciding what we want/need to do in that closet and then one of us will go to Home Depot with the large car (mine) and pick up all the supplies for it. Fun for everyone. And then he and I both will start trying to slowly upgrade our wardrobes with a select few items that we REALLY love instead of a bunch of clothes that fit badly and are out of style. Guilt is not a good reason to hold onto clothes that don’t look good anymore.

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