Moving is good for the soul. Forces you to make tough decisions. But in the ensuing years, I've picked up a lot more stuff. There's a great Delbert McClinton song called, "Too Much Stuff." He sings about the dangers of having too much, having to pay for too much, and having to store too much. The chorus goes like this:
Well, it's way too much.
You're never gonna get enough.
You can pile it high
but you'll never be satisfied.
And that's the key for me. How much is enough? There is a point when I start to get uncomfortable. The fabric morphs out of the sewing room and into the hall. The half-finished quilt projects are strewn about as if they were decorative. And rather than being happy that I've have everything I need at my fingertips, I begin to feel weighed down.