Cleaning Out a Hoarder's House
The last week of December, I received an email to say that there was a lady on my street who was moving out of her home, who needed some help with the move. Thinking that might be a great way to alleviate some end of the holiday break boredom, I gathered up the kids and we headed up the street.
The lady is a psychological hoarder. Her house is huge - at least six bedrooms, (she used it as an assisted living home) and it was FULL of stuff. I started with the entryway closet, pulling out the dozens of coats and other clothing that were hanging there and taking it out to her pickup truck. Next came the top shelves with their literally hundreds and hundreds of vacuum bags. When I asked what she wanted done with the vacuum bags, she told me to put them in a box to donate; her vacuum is a Dyson that doesn't use bags! That was just the beginning. The lady collects dolls and clocks and pets (she had two or three dogs, about five cats, a parakeet and a bunch of fish). She had a sewing room full of bolts of cloth and various sewing supplies and projects in various stages of completion. We and another family that also showed up to help spent about two hours that day and three the next dumping the contents of drawers into boxes without labeling or sealing anything. (She told us to do this because she thought it would make it easier to reuse the boxes...) I would have hated to be at the unpacking end of the operation! John and Josh went with her a few times to unload the boxes from her pickup at the house to which she was moving before they returned for more stuff. The evening of the second day, a moving van showed up which was to move the rest of the stuff, though I couldn't imagine how it would all come close to fitting, even with the many boxes that had already been brought over in the pickup. The lady paid the kids who had helped some cash, and we headed home to pack for our trip to Utah.
Fast forward the time while we were in Utah. When we returned home, there was a message on the answering machine from the lady who was moving into the house up the street. She had heard that we had helped the first lady move, and was wondering if we would be available to help some more. I arranged to go up the next day while the kids were in school. I spent four days, and about nine more hours in that house. Three of those days were spent in the kitchen, clearing out cupboards, (What does a person need with six frying pans of the same size, or four complete spice racks? Or 20+ pie plates? And why are there cookie cutters in almost every single cupboard and drawer?) throwing away expired food (Some of which expired as early as 2008, but I did come across some paper napkins celebrating the class of 1999.) and trying to figure out what on earth were some of the odd gadgets (as seen on TV!). Monday I spent three hours in the basement sorting through a mountain of sheets, towels, clothes, table cloths, bathmats, and blankets, folding them and then setting some aside to be used, bagging up some to donate, and setting some aside for the original owner. (Actually, I think she must still own the house and that the second lady is renting it from her... I don't know how else she could get away with leaving so much of her own stuff there.) The house finally has some order to it; the floor is visible and clean now, which it wasn't really before.
I don't have any plans to go back unless I get another phone call about another project. While it was nice to earn some money to fund my hobbies, (The second lady paid me $10/hour for all hours worked) I missed having the time at home to do the stuff that I wanted to do here. The experience made me want to clean out and organize what I have, to get rid of things I don't use. I don't ever want my home to be like the house up the street was, with its beautiful big kitchen and many bedrooms, but no clear surfaces to set anything down, and everything crowded with tons and tons of stuff.
The lady is a psychological hoarder. Her house is huge - at least six bedrooms, (she used it as an assisted living home) and it was FULL of stuff. I started with the entryway closet, pulling out the dozens of coats and other clothing that were hanging there and taking it out to her pickup truck. Next came the top shelves with their literally hundreds and hundreds of vacuum bags. When I asked what she wanted done with the vacuum bags, she told me to put them in a box to donate; her vacuum is a Dyson that doesn't use bags! That was just the beginning. The lady collects dolls and clocks and pets (she had two or three dogs, about five cats, a parakeet and a bunch of fish). She had a sewing room full of bolts of cloth and various sewing supplies and projects in various stages of completion. We and another family that also showed up to help spent about two hours that day and three the next dumping the contents of drawers into boxes without labeling or sealing anything. (She told us to do this because she thought it would make it easier to reuse the boxes...) I would have hated to be at the unpacking end of the operation! John and Josh went with her a few times to unload the boxes from her pickup at the house to which she was moving before they returned for more stuff. The evening of the second day, a moving van showed up which was to move the rest of the stuff, though I couldn't imagine how it would all come close to fitting, even with the many boxes that had already been brought over in the pickup. The lady paid the kids who had helped some cash, and we headed home to pack for our trip to Utah.
Fast forward the time while we were in Utah. When we returned home, there was a message on the answering machine from the lady who was moving into the house up the street. She had heard that we had helped the first lady move, and was wondering if we would be available to help some more. I arranged to go up the next day while the kids were in school. I spent four days, and about nine more hours in that house. Three of those days were spent in the kitchen, clearing out cupboards, (What does a person need with six frying pans of the same size, or four complete spice racks? Or 20+ pie plates? And why are there cookie cutters in almost every single cupboard and drawer?) throwing away expired food (Some of which expired as early as 2008, but I did come across some paper napkins celebrating the class of 1999.) and trying to figure out what on earth were some of the odd gadgets (as seen on TV!). Monday I spent three hours in the basement sorting through a mountain of sheets, towels, clothes, table cloths, bathmats, and blankets, folding them and then setting some aside to be used, bagging up some to donate, and setting some aside for the original owner. (Actually, I think she must still own the house and that the second lady is renting it from her... I don't know how else she could get away with leaving so much of her own stuff there.) The house finally has some order to it; the floor is visible and clean now, which it wasn't really before.
I don't have any plans to go back unless I get another phone call about another project. While it was nice to earn some money to fund my hobbies, (The second lady paid me $10/hour for all hours worked) I missed having the time at home to do the stuff that I wanted to do here. The experience made me want to clean out and organize what I have, to get rid of things I don't use. I don't ever want my home to be like the house up the street was, with its beautiful big kitchen and many bedrooms, but no clear surfaces to set anything down, and everything crowded with tons and tons of stuff.
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