Parting is such sweet sorrow

We did some big cleaning out last weekend. I feel good, and bad about it. I blogged about getting rid of Mom's chair. I didn't mention the other big sacrifice - my chaps.

When I was in junior high and high school I was lucky enough to be a horse girl. Mom and Dad bought me Frosty, a white/gray mare, and I later upgraded (with some angst as I loved that old gal) to Jack, a young quarterhorse gelding (that term means no nuts for you non-livestock folks). I was in 4-H, but also traveled around to other area horse shows in Southwest Iowa (Anita, Audubon, Griswold, Cumberland - once we even went to the Block and Bridle show at the fairgrounds) with Wayne and Sally (his daughter) Rodgers.

I showed my horse in the heyday of that activity! There were often updwards of 40 contestants in Western Pleasure classes. They'd have to split the class up to - and more often than not, Jack and I ended up being an also-ran. But a few times I got a nice ribbon. To be dressed for success in the show ring, I had to have the right equipment.

So for Christmas one year Mom bought me the coolest rust colored suede chaps - with fringe on 'em. They went with my beautiful blanket that went under my saddle - the tooled saddle I got in Cumberland for a birthday gift. Yep - you might say I was spoiled. (I parted with the saddle in the '80's - only agreeing to sell it to someone I liked.) I sold my horse Jack the year I left Atlantic for ISU - but was lucky he stayed right in Atlantic.

I'd carted the chaps with me since the '80's when I packed them away in my college trunk. Along with my wool LMB embroidered (my pre-marriage) sweater. Tis week they both went to the Re-Run Shop - used clothing etc. store run by the Catholic Church in Creston. They also got my "Les" tooled western belt. Damn I was proud of that thing and the big 'ol belt buckle! I hope there is another Les out there looking for a cool belt. (I was too cheap to pay for my whole name to be tooled...).

My new attitude tells me - someone should be using this stuff. It's time to quit hanging onto the so many things for sentimental reasons.

Paul tried to talk me into putting them on one last time. You bet he did. Nice try Pablo! But I was in cleanup mode. In a weak moment Paul even decided to give up his Brett Favre jerseys.

Gone Baby Gone. That's the way it's going to be. I'm not sticking my kids with going through this stuff someday. Not all of it anyway.

Tomorrow - if it's rainy. Onto the downstairs closet!