The Great American Cleanup is under way in Lincoln County, but there’s a great indoor cleanout in progress inside my house.

Notice the use of the word “cleanout” instead of “cleanup.” What I’m doing has nothing to do with “cleaning” – yet. Right now, I’m getting ready to downsize and move into a smaller house in just a few short days.

So, I’ve been packing, packing, packing, and in between, I’ve been culling out stuff I’ve held onto through previous moves. Not to mention things I’ve accumulated between moves.

To help with the process, I placed a classified ad in The Daily Newspaper. Believe me, our classifieds work! My phone rang off the hook. The voicemails stacked up to the point that the memory overflowed because I couldn’t check them and delete them fast enough.

After two days, I had to stop the ad, but the calls kept coming for a while. To the callers that I didn’t get around to calling back: Everything sold.

I was happy to see my still good, but no longer needed washer and dryer go to a new home with a young family, who drove over in their pickup truck together to get them. I was impressed with the young son, who did a good job of helping dad load my sturdy white “girls” into the truck while I visited with mom.

Things I didn’t have time to sell or that were too small to place in an ad went to my church’s thrift store, Angel’s Attic. I lost count of the runs I made to the store in compact SUV. Bags of clothes, good but already read books, extra kitchen items that I never used but just had in drawers, duplicate sets of glasses, etc., etc.

Angel’s Attic employee Anita Thomas came over once in her small truck and took some heavier items. The truck bed was nearly overflowing.

Now, this is not the first time I’ve “downsized.” I culled stuff out on two previous relocations. But this time, I got around to letting go of things I’ve had since I first left home.

My daddy’s old Underwood typewriter was on that list. I’ve had it in a box in my storage room in one house after another. Once years ago, I had it displayed in my home office with a light over it in a bookcase.

And another time, during a power failure – before laptops with batteries and other portable computerized devices – I typed a story on the old Underwood in the light of a kerosene lantern and took it to the paper where I worked. It had to be retyped once the power came back on, but at least I had a head start.

Also off to the thrift store were several sets of hand-embroidered pillowcases I’d been carrying around in my guest room dresser. My grandmother made them, but they were just hanging out unused in a drawer since they didn’t suit my taste.

Now, I like to think they’ll actually be slept on or grace someone’s guest bed.

I was unable to part with the single crazy quilt square I put together with my grandmother’s help one spring. Grandma moved to Arizona to live with my Aunt Bernice, and I never finished the quilt, but that one square is neatly folded and still tucked away in that guest room dresser where the pillowcases used to be.

I came up with the idea of taking photos of some of the things I let go of – that way, I can look at the picture if I need to reminisce instead of lugging so much stuff around.

It’s the memories that matter, not the things anyway.

Rachel Eide is editor/general manager of The Daily Leader. Contact her at rachel.eide@dailyleader.com.