Tackle the pile of catalogs in my Mom's name

     Apparently my mother was into yoga, hiking, art, decorating and traveling.  She liked American Girls, country furniture, polyester and jewelry.  She got catalogs for old ladies, young kids, women and every pet under the sun.  The more horrible the catalog the more issues of it we seemed to get.  If you've ever witnessed the "getting of the mail" you too would know the horror I would experience at the thought of the  the acres of trees taken out single handedly by my mother.  Perhaps there will be a use for  those hiking shoes, new bathing suits, art supplies or carpets.  You never know when you will need huge J Lo style hoop earrings, bunion covers, hearth stew pot or crystal chandeliers.   Quite possibly at the age of 75 you will decide to go on a safari to Africa, start growing vegetables or turn gay.  One never knows.  My Mom liked the ability to choose.  She couldn't get out much and the catalogs validated that she was indeed still here...especially when there was a SALE.  They were one of the windows to the outside world.
     So no more guilt trips about the planet and how she was ruining it for her grandchildren.  No more talks of the piles of piles of paper that contained everything that she just might need that day.  I am emailing those companies and thanking them for their no longer necessary services.  I have been at it for hours by the way.   Ok, so a few might just make the cut...you never know when I might need  reflexology gloves, night vision goggles or a new Women's P-EZ Travel Urinal.