It is hard to believe the amount of stuff that can be accumulated over a life time. As I stand in the middle of my mother's attic, the idea of sorting through all of the boxes and crates and bags and shelves brings to mind the warehouse where the Act of the Covenant is stored at the end of Indiana Jones. But if we are going to sell this house, it has to be done. To shake off the overwhelmingness of it all I decide to begin where I am and open the first box I see. As I pull back the folded flaps of the cardboard box I see that it is full of old photo albums all stacked neatly one on top of the one another. "I wonder how many photos there must be up here?" I think to myself as I scan the over the hundreds of boxes. I once again being sinking into the hoplessness of my task so I grab the first album and open it. There on the first page is a picture of me. Well accept it is the 8 year old version of myself. My almost platinum blonde hair was uncombed and all over the place. There I was setting cross legged in the grass of our front yard, white t-shirt, jeans worn out in knees and patched from being passed down from my two older brothers and no shoes...of course. I really was a child of the mountains at that time. I would disappear early in the morning and not come home until dark. Summers were all mine. I had too many adventures to mention in the woods around our house.
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