Wanna come to my yard sale?

I blame it on the fact that I took children's literature in high school instead the good old regular literature class. It's the only explanation for why I missed out on the likes of Emerson and Thoreau. Of course I've heard of Emerson and Thoreau (who hasn't) but I missed out on reading their works (other than a few tidbits here and there) until just recently when I helped Marlee with a homework assignment and exclaimed, "Egad, what have I been missing?!" And now I'm pretty much addicted to them both, along with others like them (Marlee just asked me last night, "What, are you addicted to those guys now?" To which I replied, "Addicted? Puh, no." but I think I am)

So anyway...
Yesterday I was reading (in Marlee's textbook no less) an excerpt from one of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's writings (she's in the same chapter with my two new favorite guys) where she said:

"Today more of us in America than anywhere else in the world have the luxury of choice between simplicity and complication of life. And for the most part, we, who could choose simplicity, choose complication."

And that's when I started singing "Amens" and "hallelujahs" because I for one am tired of complicating my life by chasing after those things that have no true value. Tired up to my breaking point I tell you. T-I-R-E-D.

Then, as if to further confirm Lindbergh's words, I saw a show yesterday about that little trailer house pictured above. The man who lives there decided to see how little one could live on and still be happy. I began to lament about how badly I desire to forsake all of the things of the world and live in a tiny house with few possessions when I heard a voice say, "You don't have to live in a tiny house to live more simply. You can start right now."

And now my house is full of heavy duty industrial sized black trash bags filled to the brim because I am going through each item I own and asking, "Does this simplify or complicate my life?" And wouldn't you know it...
Most of it is just crap. Pointless, life sucking garbage that's gotta go.
Buh-bye.