Impedimenta

Impeditmenta. What an absolutely fantastic word. Say it again: Impedimenta! It refers to "objects that impede or encumber." And here I've been referring to our excess belongings as "crap" when clearly such high class castoffs deserve a loftier title (though privately I have been thinking of the whole endeavor as "The Big Purge"). Of course, only when coming from my direction can it be called impedimenta; anyone embracing our castoffs into their lives probably doesn't see it that way, one woman's freely given impedimenta being another person's big score.

My delight in this new vocabulary word is, however, dimmed by yesterday's experience that impeded and encumbered The Big Purge in an unexpected way. Mid-morning yesterday Mr. Bill, our next door neighbor, phoned to tell us that his family's three cars had been broken into and to advise us to check our own. Sure enough, during the wee hours of Saturday night and Sunday morning, someone entered both my (yikes) minivan and Alan's truck and thoroughly trashed the interiors. They helped themselves to my wallet and cel phone, both of which were in the diaper bag I lacked a seventh hand to grab when exiting the van with arms full of groceries and baby on Saturday afternoon.

So, yeah, we should have locked our cars, and yeah, I should have retrieved the diaper bag. Both of which we will totally be doing from now on, youbetcha, locking that ol'barn door now that the horse is gone. I must admit that my first reaction after we saw our disheveled vehicles was, "Dang, was it because I had all those people from Freecycle come here?" Which is totally unfair to Freecycle, since I've had as many if not more equally total strangers come by from Craigslist. (To sell things! Not from the, um, social side of Craigslist! Ahem).

Even though the three people who have come so fair to claim their booty seem like upstanding citizens, I got to say that this fun event has shaken me. As a former city dweller I have had my car broken into several times before, but this time is different. We live far off the road in a fairly obscure rural community so it's not like a crime of convenience, someone just walking past and thinking, hey look, that idiot left her bag in an unlocked van! We all have our suspicions of how the messy thief entered our midst (question for the perpetrator: was it REALLY necessary to crush my funky straw cowgirl hat, you bastard?) Not that we are likely ever to find out who did it but judging by the fact that they appeard to be after cash, plus the times and places my credit card was used (wee hours, east side drug neighborhoods), my guess is area resident with a wee bit of a heroin habit.

Honestly, depite that initial twinge I hardly think it's anyone I've divested goods to via the Internet. On the other hand, I do currently feel weirded out, invaded and suspicious, after this unexpected and non-voluntary Little Purge. So no more Freecycle for the time being. I need a little time to regroup and figure out how to direct that giving stuff away mo to other channels.