Spring cleaning in progress for imminent downsizing…

Obelix may be a fat bastard, but there is no way we could fit all the stuff we’ve accumulated over the years (and that will mainly have lived through the time of their negotiation*) on board. Nor is it our intention to keep things for later, when we decide to return to landbound life. Indeed we want to spread our wings and sails as wide and free as possible, not being pressed by this idea of a return. Where and when, anyway?

*approximate recollection and translation of a quote from Yasmina Reza’s l’Homme du Hasard.

So, we’ve toughened up, and armed with a ruthlessly selective mindset, have gone through our belongings, identified the must-keep, and accepted to let go of the rest, deciding for each item the best “life-after-us” path, using all means we could think of to dispose of them: friends, neighbours, garage sale, TradeMe, “Mamans à Auckland” Facebook group, charity shops, bucket full of free stuff left at the end of the driveway – firm believers of the reuse/recycle motto, our rubbish bins have only taken the strict minimum, though I wish I had lived by the refuse/reduce part of the hymn even more!

Carrying out our “empty-the-house-everything-must-go” mission is not without drawbacks. We get dizzy, hit moments of utter doubt, sky-rocketing stress, and record-low energy levels, catch ourselves losing patience more, yelling more, postponed a party we were suppose to organise, not to mention the missed milongas, and the fact I caught a cold over the weekend… So definitely not an easy task to part from things that once provided us great comfort and stability, but a necessary one, and how satisfying and liberating to execute a plan drawn out for so long, and feel closer to our dream by the minute!

I can now say that, with our armchair, dining table, chairs, bathroom cabinet, full-length mirror, dresser, chest, piano, and fridge gone, and our beds just about to, we’ve past the point of no return. Did I mention our car decided to give up too? Windscreen to replace, couldn’t be done without changing the whole frame which was too corroded to fit a new windscreen. Too much $, not worth repairing. That’s a sign. The Universe doesn’t want us on the roads but on the sea…

If I had to pick one thing that we won’t bring on the boat and I will sorely miss, I would say the framed puzzle, pictures, and paintings from siblings that are still hanging on our walls. Runner up is my favourite arm chair (found on the street and refurbished, with the perfect angle and which arms can hold a cup of tea, though not fully horizontal, without letting it slide) I get comfort in the thought it is now taking the sun in the patio of a good home.
Thomas will miss his piano.
Zéphyr will miss his school.
Azur will miss his parents’ big bouncy bed!

What about you? Can you think of something you would miss if moving on a boat?