have moved seven times in my life.

 My husband has moved countless times, in fact, the year before we got married, he moved an exhausting three times.

 My parents have moved three times in their 47 years of marriage. They have been at their current residence for over 30, which they lovingly restored and turned a property that was in complete disrepair, into a magical place to grow up.  At least it was magical to me.

 My family has spent the past six weeks cleaning, packing, organizing and purging, because this month, we are all moving together.  Emotions are running high and we are in overdrive to make this transition a smooth one.  The strolls down memory lane have been joyous as well as tearful.  Each of us, at least once during this process, has had to have items ripped from clutched hands that were intended for the dumpster or donate piles.  When moving, what do you keep and what do you toss?

 What should be tossed are things past their expiration date.   While packing, we found medicines from the 1980’s and pantry goods that expired as far back as the early ‘90’s.  Perhaps more thorough spring-cleaning is in order.

 All of my grandparents are gone, so their belongings are stuffed in every crevice of the house as well as our huge old bank barn that serves in part as a storage locker.  Some of the gems found within are trunks of old letters that were obviously saved for a reason, artwork, clothes, photos of friends that were taken before any of us were ever born, and books, tons of books.  I can’t bear to part with sentimental items and hope my children one day explore with wonder and curiosity as I did through the saved memorabilia.  Or they will think I am a hoarder.

 Clothes. It is no secret that I am a clotheshorse.   I love to keep outfits that were worn for special occasions even though there is no chance of ever wearing them again.  You also never know when something will come back in style.  In my last move I donated my L.L. Bean boots that I never thought I would wear again.  I miss them every day.

 Broken things.  My mother loves to keep old pieces of tack to one-day repurpose.  I know she will do something ridiculously cool with broken reins that will make me eat my words.

 My father has boxes and boxes of old tee-shirts he’s collected either on his travels, tennis tournaments, ski trips or received as gifts.  He won’t part with any of them.  Looks like someone will be getting a quilt for Christmas.

 My husband, probably because he has moved so much, likes to throw out everything unnecessary.   He may be the wisest of all of us.

 We certainly have a lot of unpacking ahead of us in the coming weeks.  If you see my family dumpster diving, it’s because my husband threw out my homecoming dress, a broken cheek piece or tee shirt that says, “How’s your Aspen”.