A New Thrift Store In Town

The American Veteran's Thrift Store - first day of business

Bill and I visited the newest thrift store in town.  It's called the Veteran's Thrift store.  Not a real imaginative name I admit.  

Here in Gayberry Rehoboth beach and its environs (Lewes and Milton) we have a plethora of thrift stores.  Loads of them.  It's obvious because we have a large retiree population.  When us old folks die (there I go again), our relatives generally don't want our leavings unless it's cash.  Quite often the homes of the deceased that go up for sale say "furnished." 

I know for a fact that my nieces and one nephew and many grand nieces and grand nephews don't want anything from their old gay uncle except maybe the cash.  I don't plan on leaving a lot of cash behind but there may be some.

Since moving to LSD (Lower Slower Delaware) in 2007, I've been reluctantly departing with some of my "stuff."  I admit it is hard to part with the things I've accumulated over the past 72 years.  Funny thing though, once that formerly treasured possessions are out of the house, I haven't missed on of them.  That tells you something.

Bill is very fond of taking first time visitors to Casa Tipton-Kelly to my "Media Room" down in our beautifully finished basement and showing them all my "stuff", obviously hoping to shame me into getting rid of it.  I admit making choices of who and what to expel from Casa Tipton-Kelly is probably some of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make in my life.  I am a repressed hoarder.  There…..I've said it.  

My "Media Room" (my shame)

So today we visited this new thrift store.  It's convenient, just down the road from Casa Tipton-Kelly.  And it is open Sunday.  In fact it is open seven days of the week.  How about that?  Unlike the other thrift stores that are only open five days (closed Mondays).  Also this one has decent hours, 8 am in the morning instead of 10 am which is bad when traveling on Route One, especially in the summertime.  This thrift store gets it.  And they're getting my stuff. Starting tomorrow.

P.S.
Of course I did leave the thrift store today with a purchase…..beads for the upcoming Bloggerpalooza.  Hey, why not?

Bloggerpalooza beads

Lost in Space

Tipton Family Reunion 1994

Ever put something in a "safe place", just to make sure you knew where it was at, and then when it came time to get it you don't remember where you put it?  Yes folks, that's where I am at now.  SOOOO frustrating.

See that "Welcome - Tipton Family Reunion" banner in the photo above?  I can't find it!  Yep, after the last reunion in 2011 I brought it back here to the house and put it in a "safe place" and now I CAN'T FIND IT.  

I have a hunch it is in my junk Basement Memorabilia Room.  You know, that room where I put all the unopened boxes from our move from our home in Pennsylvania in 2006 to here.  Yes folks, that was SEVEN years ago.  That's nothing, when we moved from Philadelphia to our new home in the woods outside of Downingtown, PA I stored unopened boxes in the storage space over the garage and didn't open them for the 25 years we lived there. And yes, I am embarrassed to admit that. 

The scene in my basement storage room this morning

One of Bill's favorite things to do when we have new visitors to our house here is to show them our basement room and "Ronnie's stuff" hoping he will embarrass me into finally cleaning it out.  

Unopen boxes - I'm so embarrassed

Well folks, I am determined to find this banner.  I KNOW it is somewhere deep in the trenches boxes  in that basement storage room.  And before I leave, I have to give kudos to my new BF Pat (he from Toronto) who is a minimalist.  While I'll never go as far as he has gone with getting rid of things, he is having a VERY POSITIVE influence on me.  When he comes down for his next visit I want that basement room cleaned out.  Sometimes all we need to just a little inspiration.....and a new friend whose habits you admire and want to emulate. Thanks Pat!

Pat The Inspector

Now to find that banner.  

Getting Through Another Day

The view from where I work in Lewes of the Rehoboth-Lewes Canal - I love it!

The dog days of summer continue on this last day of August.

I would love to go out in the Back Forty (my backyard) and putz around but I don't feel like getting drenched in sweat again.  So here I sit updating my blog twice in one day.  Hey, I would rather do this than drain myself fighting the heat and humidity that has been unrelenting this whole summer.

I think we had two, maybe three normal days of summer.  Most of the rest of this summer we have been beaten down to a weak pulp with the heat and humidity.  Come on the cool winds of fall.

This morning I took my usual walk on the boardwalk in Rehoboth.  Someone planted themselves in my usual seat on the boardwalk so I didn't take my half hour break between my up and down the boardwalk. Since I got there early this morning I was able to cover the boardwalk a total of four times (for a total of over four miles) in one brisk walk.

I was just starting to sweat when I got to the north end of the boardwalk near the Henlopen Hotel where I park my buggy.  I left before 8 am.  I think I accidentally discovered the secret to getting out of Rehoboth and avoiding the traffic.

I usually make my run in the morning sometime between 6:30 am and 7 am.  This morning I was out the door at 6:15 am.  I didn't sleep too well last night thinking about Mom and her difficult nights.

It was a straight shot down Rt. 1 as it usually is this early in the morning.  My only competition are the Sysco food trucks delivering their precooked food to the tourist trap restaurants in Rehoboth.

Coming back is another story.  I have been coming back home around 9 o'clock.  I'm hitting the heavy traffic going north on Rt. 1 at that time.  I can't figure out where all that traffic is going.  Milford?  Milton?  Touristas leaving Rehoboth for their hobbits up North?  What's with that?  Just another mystery that I have to solve.

Well, this morning I hit Rt. 1 at a little after 8 am.  It was almost clear sailing.  Oh sure, I hit the occasional doofus on a cell phone clogging up the passing lane.  The occasional Old Guy or Old Gal gripping the top of the steering wheel. "You'll never pry my cold, dead hands from this steering wheel".

I still had to dodge the ladder topped service trucks that weave in and out of the traffic, speeding toward their destination of the day to to overcharge some defenseless customer de jour.  Oh yes, we are sitting ducks down here in Lower Slower for the Service People.  Hey, at least they're showing up somewhere.  You're lucky if you can even get one of these slickters to show up.

Well, anyway, I made it home in no time at all and I've been here ever since.  Holed up in my air conditioned, fabulous, four year old, Ryan ranch home. One floor living baby....I love it!

Below are some of yesterday's photo journal that I take from that camera that is always hanging around my neck:

A sign that caught my eye from the fruit and vegetable stand on Rt. 5 outside of Milton.  It reminded me of a bad habit I used to have in my bar hopping days.  

Bill and I went to Big Bob's and Jim's yesterday to see Jim's new car.  They live in the woods outside of Georgetown. They weren't home.  We still haven't heard from them.

Big Bob and Jim are world class hoarders.  Here is Bill inspecting some of Bob's goodies.  I have my eye on that lawn chair.

"The Ranch"

Big Bob and Jim live in a double wide on 22 wooded acres outside of Georgetown.  Yes, they do live in  Sussex County Redneck County.  They still keep a low profile.  It's still not safe to come out. Big Bob was one of the original gay settlers of Lower Slower.  I've been visiting him at "The Ranch" (our pet name for his place) since the Seventies.  I "discovered" Delaware because of Big Bob.  I have no idea where I would be living if I hadn't.  Probably still in Pennsylvania, working full-time to try and keep up with the always increasing taxes. 

I owe Big Bob a world of thanks for providing this turning point in my life.  Now they're just two old men living in the woods.  Just like me and Bill, two old men living in a development off of Rt. 1. 

Just getting through another day.

Going Home

The Road Home

I am bone tired. 

This morning I finished cleaning out my Mother's back bedroom.  This was the bedroom she used for storage.  I cleaned it out once before about five years ago.  I didn't think I would be cleaning it out again but since my Mother is not returning to her long time home from where she lives now with my brother John in South Carolina, my brothers and I thought it best to start cleaning out her house.

John and Isaac cleaned out her bedroom and our Pop's bedroom last week.  They started to cleanout the Back Bedroom (as my Mother always called it), but once John pryed the door open, he just didn't want to tackle that hoarder's dream room.

Mom's Home - don't be deceived by the neatness of the outside, inside is another story

Since Friday I've been cleaning out that room.  This morning I pushed myself to the limit to get the room done before my Isaac returns from visiting Mom in South Carolina.  He and his son (who is driving) should be here about 4 this afternoon.  It is an 11 hour drive from Greenville, South Carolina to Downingtown, PA.  Isaac and Ikey (my brother is a Jr. and his son is a III) left Greenville in the early morning hours.  I called him on my cell phone about 10 o'clock.  He and Ikey were in North Carolina.  I know he's anxious to get home.  I'm anxious to get to my home in Delaware.  Bill tells me his misses me (sure, I bet.)  No, he said he really does.

After taking another large black trash bag out the garage, I got in my Subaru and drove down to the post office.  I found a box throw blanket that my Mother never used so I thought I would mail it to her.  I put in some of her initialed stationery too because she has said she can't get out to buy any note paper to send people notes. 

My next stop after the post office was to Wegmans.  I had to stock up on their delicious whole wheat pita bread.  This is the kind of exclusive grocery sore products I don't see in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. I stuff that pita bread with my homemade chicken salad and I have the best lunch money can buy.   I also picked up some items for my upcoming family reunion on May 16th.  I'll leave those items here since I'm coming back in a few weeks.

Now it is time for my first nap since I've got here last Wednesday.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror this morning and I do not look pretty due to my lack of sleep.  I have one of those faces that when I'm tired, it shows.  In fact I look terrible when I am tired.

By the time I awaken around 4 this afternoon, Ike should be back.  Maybe we will go to Hosses' for dinner (I haven't had a good chargrilled hamburger and fries for weeks!) and discuss his trip.  He told me on the phone this morning that Mom tried to come back with him and Ikey.  We can't let her do that, she's too weak.  She would never survive the trip.  It's a shame she can't go back to her longtime home but she is being taken care of very well where she is not.  My brother John is the care pastor of his church so taking care of an elderly person, in this case his mother, is something for which he has almost thirty years of experience.

Time for my nap now.  When I get home I will have loads of pictures to share.  For now I'm showing my Mom's house and the road home for me tomorrow.  I can go either way out of my Mother's driveway.  Right of left, they both take me home. Then I tackle the real job, my hoard.

This road gets me home too

Cleaning Out Mom's Bedroom

One of the reasons I left for my Mom's home in Pennsylvania last Thursday was to house sit for my brother Isaac while he and his son (Isaac, III) visited our Mom in Greenville, SC.  She's staying with my youngest brother John and his wife Barbara.  The other reason was to help clean her house of the accumulated clutter of 52 years.  My Mom is a hoarder.

We three brothers convinced her to spend the winter at John's home in the South because we didn't think she would make it through another winter.  In retrospect, we made a very wise decision. 

We promised her that she could return to her home of 52 years come this spring, if only for a visit.  Unfortunately, she is too weak to make the trip to Pennsylvania.  So we decided to clean her house out now since it is very unlikely she will return to her home. 

Brother John was up earlier in the month.  He and Isaac cleaned out her bedroom and Pop's bedroom.  They boxed up a lot of her things and marked the boxes as to the disposition when the inevitable happens.

John took one look at the "back bedroom" (as my Mother called it) and closed the door.  He just wasn't gong to tackle that room.  This is the same room that John and Isaac shared when they were going to school.  Now you can hardly get the door open because there is so much clutter.

I would provide a picture but I'm at my Mom's computer and it doesn't have the software for me to download the pictures.  However, I did take some video with my Flip video camera which I am able to take snapshots of individual frames.  Those are the pictures in this blog.

John told me he left that room for me.  Thank you brother John!

I started to clean that room out Thursday.  I hardly made a dent.  I still couldn't see the floor.

Yesterday I was determined to see the color of the carpet in that room.  After a big push, I cleared out enough to see that it is green.  I was exhausted last night.  I slept like I was dead.

I rose from the dead early this morning thinking about cleaning out that room.  I generally sleep well so you know it's a problem if I'm lying in bed thinking about cleaning out "the back room."

I attacked that room with all my strength today.  I finally made signification headway.  So much so that I could see most of the rug.

 I loaded up the back of my Subaru with several boxes of donations for the Goodwill store in Morgantown, PA.  It was late this Saturday afternoon and I was afraid they would be closed by the time I got there. 

When I rolled into their parking lot I saw that they were not closed and in fact an employee was rolling out two empty donation bins.  What a welcome sight.

I quickly unloaded the back of my car and loaded Mom's "stuff", including the last afghan she was working on (unfinished) into the donation bin.  The Goodwill employee asked me if I wanted a receipt.  I did not. 

A heaving burden has been lifted from my shoulders.  There is still much work to do. 

We've boxed up all of Mom's clothes.  I sent her a large box down by mail this morning.  The woman at the Post Office asked me how I wanted the box delivered.  Overnight would cost $130.00.  $130.00?  Not likely.  She told me that three day delivery would cost $49.00.  Nup.  Not likely either.  I settled for Parcel Post which cost me $19.00.  Mom's fake fur coat is in there along with several of her favorite warm and snuggy nightgowns which I know she misses.  I threw in a couple of her small teddy bears to go along for the ride. 

Cleaning out Mom's bedroom today caused me to think this very obvious question:  who is going to clean out my bedroom when that time comes for me? 

An interesting thought because I have no children, Bill is thirteen years older than me and I assumed he will check out before I will.  I have one nephew and four nieces and several grand nephews and grand nieces.  I don't see any of them cleaning out my "stuff." 

But hey, I'm not going to worry about it now.  I have a family reunion to put on May 16th.

Getting Organized

After three years I’m finally beginning to attack the roomful of unpacked boxes I have in my basement media room.

You’ve heard of writer’s block? Well, for the past three years I’ve had a block about unpacking those boxes. It was such an enormous effort just to get twenty six years of accumulated possessions packed from the old house that we sold in Pennsylvania. By the time we finally got down here in Delaware I was exhausted. I only unpacked the necessities. The rest I put off “until later.” Later never came.



Over the past three years Bill has frequently reminded me “When are you going to get rid of that junk?” Well “junk” it is not. Granted, most of the packed items I probably don’t need because I haven’t missed them in the past three years. But I’m one of those people who just can’t part with things. I “may need it” in the future. For instance, empty boxes? I may need them if and when I start selling things on EBay, which will probably never happen in my life time but if I do, I’m ready. I have loads of bubble wrap. I’ll probably “need that” too. You never know.



Most of the other items are “things” from my Previous Life. I just can’t bear to part with them. I’ll put that responsibility on the person who cleans out my belongings when I depart this earth. But for now I’m keeping them. They give me comfort. I even found old issues of my school newspaper “The Blue and Gold.” One of them had a picture of me looking oh so serious of my days on the high school track team. I had forgotten all about that picture. It is yellowed and weathered now but I still remember the anguish of my track and field days. I never came in better than last. Those were the days when I really had low self esteem. Oh the Teenage Years, trial and tribulation.





What started me on this Mission Impossible was searching for my old photo negatives. I recently hooked up a new HP Scanjet which scans slides (which I have found) and negatives. I know I have those negatives (every one since I started taking pictures in the Fifties) somewhere. They are in an old Christmas box. And I know I put them in a “safe place.” But as is so often the case, I put it in such a safe place that even I can’t find them now. But I know I’ve seen them since I’ve been down here. That is what is so frustrating. That box is somewhere in this house. But where could it be?



But oh what treasures I am finding emptying and digging through the contents of all those packing boxes. I have found many pictures which I will share with you the “lucky” readers of this blog. Notice how I’m assuming you would even be interested in these pictures? No matter, my blog is partly a function of providing therapy for my mental well being anyway and it would give me pleasure to share these old pictures of my Previous Life with the world. It’s all part of leaving a legacy of my time on this earth.

Even though I haven’t found those negatives (yet) one good thing has come out of this exercise. I have finally burst through the three year mental block of finally unpacking the remaining boxes of our move of November 2006. I’m on a roll now.