While Jim was in Ukraine last week I cleaned out cupboards, dressers and closets.

You might remember, last year while he was in Ukraine I cleaned out the garage and Jim's den. That endeavor was not well-received when Jim returned. I had thrown out some of his prize possessions: three banker's boxes full of used golf balls. This year I decided to concentrate on my own stuff.

And stuff I found all right!

I like to write and over the years have filled many journals. But last week discovered 12 brand new, beautiful ones, some still in their packaging. These were either gifts or purchases, the gift giver or myself assuming that I had some wisdom that needed to be preserved on the pristine pages. The pages continue unadulterated.

I found 43 T-shirts, most of which I sent off to Goodwill and eight pairs of shoes that either did not fit or never did. Cute but painful shoes. Goodwill. Purses from years past, some purchased at yard sales or art fairs, but never carried. One was red and white striped; another had the word Amsterdam written all over it, a souvenir from a trip to the city with the same name. Goodwill.

In the kitchen I found six frying pans, all of similar size and an assortment of 32 glass lids.

I tried to remember when the last time was that I bought jars of spices and then tried to determine how long the freezer was expected to preserve others. They all got tossed.

After four trips to Goodwill in as many days, the worker who helped unload the car each time welcomed me as a friend.

Jim returns tomorrow evening and my reduction of possessions is completed for this week; however, as I look around, the house yet looks full of stuff. How can this be? Is it some sort of optical illusion? Where did all this stuff come from? I blinked and the house was full again.

I don't know what to think about this.