Those of you who know me know how difficult it is for me to get rid of books. Those of you who don't know me may be aware of it too.
Nonetheless, these books were kind of no-brainers:
Let's start with the obvious: A 1998 almanac and a 1995 guide to movies aren't that valuable because, as you may be aware, the world has marched on since the '90s.
The dollhouse books? At one point I swore I was going to build a dollhouse for my kids. And by "for my kids," I mean "for me." I was going to put tiny furniture in it and wallpaper it and put itty-bitty flower pots in the windows, and maybe I was going to wire it for lights, and if the teensy occupants built enough equity, I was going to have them refinance and put a tile floor and granite counters in the kitchen.
But I'm never going to do that. So someone else can have these books.
There's a book there about professions in the health care industry because there was a time when I was sure that I should be a surgical tech. That's probably not going to happen.
And the other book is a leftover from college. I got rid of most of the books I was assigned to read in college, but I kept this one because one of my favorite professors wrote it.
But then it occurred to me: I didn't read the thing when I was supposed to, so I probably am never going to read it now. So there's really no use holding onto it just because I enjoyed hearing my professor talk about the separation of church and state.
On another note, I found more plastic eggs.
What is wrong with me that I have this many eggs? I'm going to try to donate them to the friend that took my last batch. And if she doesn't want 'em, I'm going to try Freecycle.
The last thing for today is a selection of balls from my basement inflatable ball pit. (Don't even get me started about that.) I wasn't sure if I should count these as an item because I didn't know if throwing away 18 balls and keeping 482 counts as decluttering. But then I added the purple ball and decided that I could legitimately count the batch as 1.
Don't look too closely at the balls in this picture because the reason I'm getting rid of them is that they fell victim to a diaper non-containment disaster that occurred in the ball pit last week. I came across these while Clorox wiping the majority of those 482 balls.
(The best part is that I was alerted to the fact that the diaper had failed in the ball pit as opposed to elsewhere in the basement (as I'd previously thought), when Quinn brought me a poop-covered ball in the middle of a potluck for three moms and nine kids that I was hosting. You've not seen parents yell, "Out of the ball pit!" and line their kids up for hand washing faster than I have.)
If you play in my basement, rest assured that the ball pit is as close to sterile as it's ever going to be. And don't worry, I'm not donating those balls to anyone.
Total items for today: 8