We are in the process of decluttering our house of 18 years, as we prepare for retirement.
This blog is not about THAT.
We are in no way prepared to get into THAT.
But we are happy to write about the La-Z-Boy.
Because, damn, ya’ll.
A sister here in NZ asked us to store her twin La-Z-Boy recliners a few years ago while she was overseas doing mission work.
They went into our basement (a.k.a. “rumpus room” in New Zealand Speak). Thanks to the huge Sony Brava/sound system from the same sister, our rumpus was turned into into a surround-sound-theater.
That’s the background.
Now, as Paul Harvey would say, this is the rest of the story…
As part of the strategy to declutter, we are selling off about 100 billion items that we’ve accumulated over the last 33-plus years.
Just thinking about this process is like having a 10,000 pound weight placed upon my chest.
So, anyway, we recently used Trade Me, our version of eBay, to auction of the wee Mazda camper van and the Missus’ arsenal of knitting machine stuff.
Good & Bad
The good thing about these auctions is you can get rid of stuff, which, if you will recall, is strategically aligned with our goal of decluttering.
The bad thing is you have to deal with people who seem to base their entire life and income around these auctions.
Like the lady who won the Missus’ Knitting Extravaganza auction, which was clearly marked as PICK-UP only.
So of course this lady wanted us to ship everything several hundred kilometres away (which is well over a billion miles).
This required the Missus to disassemble everything and carefully position all the parts back in the original boxes.
Of course she has the original boxes.
Plus, because the Missus included yarns and books and various knitting attachments that do Lord only knows what, she had to create a HUGE third box from a range of cardboard boxes, including one we had to go out and buy.
So yesterday, in the cloudburst of all winter cloudbursts, I was driving around Auckland trying to find the CORRECT depot for sending original knitting machine boxes (plus the custom-made one that could probably have held a pony).
This was a COLOSSAL waste of time, got me soaked and really pissed me off.
I know this will come as a huge shock to anyone who reads this blog and knows that my normal personality is “rainbows and unicorn happy”.
So anyway, I promise, we are getting to the real point of this story.
Unless I see something shiny and get distracted.
The first “beachhead” for Operation Declutter is the Rumpus.
We decided to get rid of the two La-Z-Boy recliners and a treadmill that I have faithfully used for years to hold my camo pants; the ones that I am supposed to wear when I am spraying killer horror chemicals on the roof.
But it was not that simple.
Since the La-Z-Boys are WAY better than the green recliner that has been in our living room for two decades, we had Junior put on his muscles and lug the green recliner down to the rumpus, and one of the brown La-Z-Boys up to the living room.
This positioned one brown La-Z-Boy, one old green recliner, and one treadmill for pick-up by the auction winners (one of whom will no doubt ask me to wrap a recliner and send it to Guam or some place).
As I walked into the living room last night for prayer time, the Missus was ensconced in the La-Z-Boy.
In fact, she looked as if she, and the *Crack Puppy, had been poured into the La-Z-Boy.
The only movement was the occasional twitch of her tiny house shoes.
“This chair is just so wonderful. I can just sleep like a pig in it. Did you already place the ad for the other one, because…” said the Missus.
So I yanked the La-Z-Boy from the auction and incurred a THREE DOLLAR penalty.
But, honestly, I cannot blame the sleepy Missus.
I took two, count them, two naps yesterday in the La-Z-Boy.
I am not sure what supernatural power they wield, but brothers and sisters, there is something magical about these recliners.
I awoke from the second nap about midnight, just in time to go to bed.
I awakened from one of those dreams that was about as real and complicated as an episode of West Wing.
When I awakened, I realized that I was weightless and purple. Plus invisible and filled with fuzziness.
The nap was just that good.
So I stumbled out of the La-Z-Boy like a drunk.
And off to bed.
Where of course I could not sleep.
Which means that what I really need to auction is the bed and start sleeping in the ***La-Z-Boy.
Because, man oh man, these things are great.
*All up, the Crack Puppy had three world-class naps yesterday in the La-Z-Boy. She has yet to tell me about her dreams
**Pretty sure this dream means that everything will turn out JUST FINE
***We find it ironic that the La-Z-Boy is the same brown color as Gramp’s rocking chair. Our afghan is pretty much the same, too. That says a lot about a lot.