Hello- My name is Kolette. And I've got a problem. It started out as a sort of therapy for raising a family. I needed to get out. To release some emotions. To find my creative side. To actually use some of my creative side. I used to have one before children. Before diapers. Before ranching. Before being a housewife and mother became my sole purpose. And then I found an outlet. An auction sale here or there. A rummage sale. A thrift store. And then I found myself boulevarding. And a few things gathered led to happiness. A few more led to clutter. A few more led to too much already to justify going again. So my outlet was now a problem. And I needed help.
Fortunately, I found friends and family along the way who had the same problem as I had. One day Wanda called me up and asked if I wanted to join a group of gals hosting a "tag" sale. A chance to clean out a bit of my clutter. I remember my husband helping me load our stock trailer and telling me he wouldn't give me a plug nickel for the whole load. I also remember coming home at the end of the sale and throwing my wad of money on the table and shocking him. People actually paid for all your junk?
My JUNK? All my lovingly gathered, collected, used, & hoarded oddities. My pictures, my furniture, my yard fixings. Alright, I do remember throwing in the lid to an old washing machine and a bottomless teapot. But it was a cute teapot! And the lid could become a great sign! Apparently my husband and I don't have the same vision.
This new outlet of getting rid of some of my stash, my hoard, my treasures, gave me empty spots to fill again. I could once again justify going to an auction sale or "junkin'" as we call it now. Our first tag sale blossomed into our 2 sales a year. We can buy to use, to repurpose, or to sell to someone who loves junk as much as we do.
It is a problem. When one can't seem to throw anything away because you might be able to use it for.....something! And if you do throw it away you wish you had kept it later when a certain project you are working on needs just that piece! The one you no longer have. So you save everything. Just in case. And then you realize you do have a problem.
Getting together with my junkin' gang is just the therapy I needed. And so we meet. We junk. We laugh. We cry. We admit we have a problem. Actually we have many. We are having a great time doing it. And it's the best therapy ever!