My friend the hoarder

In addition to being a poet, Roberta Lynn is a self-described hoarder. She can justify it--she's a very active e-bay seller. So she buys a lot of stuff at Goodwill (say a $3.95 dog statue that she sells for $15). All that stuff fills every nook and cranny of her house. Her bed is covered with boxes that she puts on the floor at night, and then back on the bed during the day so she can move around.

I imagine all hoarders justify what they do. E-bay is definitely a way to provide her extra income. But how can anyone live surrounded by stuff? My stress hormones would kill me. Her living room, for example, is full of boxes and styrofoam peanuts, ready to help her ship her wares. Here's what it looks like:

I love Roberta Lynn to death. She is a true friend and an inspiration. But I'm never done hectoring her about her lifestyle. And she puts up with it good naturedly.

She also collects bricks. Here's a walkway she built to her front door:

Close up:

Today Roberta Lynn and I had breakfast then she put me on Amtrak from Johnstown to Newark (seven hours!). It was hard to say goodbye, but also comforting to be sent off by someone so close. Right now I'm in Newark waiting to board my flight to Belfast. More tomorrow about the Amtrak trip.
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