[9/19/2004]Inspired less by “Clean Sweep” than “The Dave Ramsey Show,” the past two Saturdays have found me up early, hanging signs around my neighborhood inviting all to a porch sale.

My house looked so big the day before I moved but the approximately 1,200 square feet filled up fast with the possessions I’ve accumulated and carted around in Clampetts-meet-gypsies style for years.

I have been toying with the idea of a sale all summer as I’ve listened to snippets of Dave’s financial philosophy. He also talks and writes about stuffitis,’ that drive to buy, buy, buy.

It strikes each of us in different ways. For some, it’s the big stuff like boats and cars. For others, it’s smaller, less expensive stuff, but stuff just the same.

I procrastinated until an infusion of new books and knickknacks stuff came my way courtesy of a friend departing for a job overseas.

As I watched him toss long-hoarded stuff and struggled myself to integrate these new stuffs into my world, I realized it was high time for a clean sweep.

By 6 a.m. both Saturdays, I was perched on a dining room chair, coffee in my hand, cash box under my feet and my stuff in piles around the L-shaped porch.

It’s an unfamiliar side of the yard sale for me.

I’m usually the buyer, not the seller.

I had forgotten that in order to be successful at hosting a yard sale, one must detach oneself from one’s stuff.

That was the first challenge.

I could not flush with pleasure when someone said, “Those are soooo cute,” about my ice cream parlor chairs. I could not feel enraged when someone picked up the bridesmaid dress from my favorite cousin’s wedding and laughed.

If I put an item on the porch, I had to let it go.

Still, I had my doubts about getting rid of certain things that didn’t sell the first week. Maybe it was a sign from God that I should keep it, I thought.

By the next Saturday morning, I came to my senses and realized that I don’t think God sends messages through papasan chairs anymore, so it was back on the block.

By then I had also decided that whatever stuff didn’t sell, I would donate to Keystone Ministries.

Still waffling, I thought, if the chair doesn’t sell, maybe I should keep it.

It went before 10 a.m. to a good home where I can visit it no less.

By the end of my second sale, I was ready for the Keystone Ministries to come pick up what was left before I collapsed in a heap in my little corner.

But I learned both practical and spiritual lessons dealing with my stuff:

The two flights of steps up to my front porch are really, really steep.

I really, really ought to fix the porch rail before somebody gets hurt.

It’s much easier to hose down the porch when there’s no stuff on it.

Stuff’s not bad; stuff’s not good. It’s what you do with the stuff that counts.

I never really needed that stuff.

Sometimes it’s just time to get rid of stuff.

There’s always more stuff.

Sonya Kimbrell is features editor of The Vicksburg Post. E-mail her at skimbrell@vicksburgpost.com.