I had been feeling, dare I say it, just a tiny bit smug about all the decluttering progress I have been making. Watching things going out the door that aren't loved or used, even parting with emotionally charged things like my father's book collection and folders full of prior course material, feeling very proud of myself.
Well, I still am, but I realized today exactly why the house has been looking so spacious.
There's this little thing called an attic.
And ours was completely emptied today, to make room for some renovations--ripping up the flooring and insulation to make it into (eventually) a finished sleeping loft.
And that attic space was full. It didn't feel full, but there you have it. Bring everything in it down the pull-down stairs into the upstairs landing/office area, and there is a horrific, piled-up mess.
I'm not sure that P'tit Minou Un will be able to get out of his bedroom to come down for dinner.