Things On Shelves


In our retro wall unit in the basement there is a drop-down door on hinges with a lovely little storage area behind it.  I’m wondering if normal people might use this space as a liquor cabinet.  We obviously use it as a place to put miscellaneous assorted crap.  I can’t imagine how a half used lint roller ended up in here but I suppose it’s just as special as two crochet hooks in a brandy snifter.

This wonderful piece of furniture has lots of shelves, a glassed-in display section where we keep some northern artifacts, two drawers (full of even more junk), and a place for our tv.  It’s a great spot to keep part of our ridiculous collection of movies.  I’ve posted this picture of a small section of it in an effort to shame myself into going down there with a garbage bag and emptying it of half it’s contents.

So far, my plan is not working.  Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not simply because I’m too lazy to be bothered.  Although that does explain part of my reluctance to part with things.  I was raised by people who saved stuff and taught me that it was wrong to throw away anything that was in perfectly good condition.  Even if you could not imagine yourself actually using it in this lifetime.  Someone, somewhere, might just want it for something. So it got stuck away out of sight and out of mind, to be thrown away at some future date by a ruthless person with way fewer hoarding hang ups.

One time when the power went out, W used those very candles for light until the electricity came back on about twenty minutes later.  That situation could recur again at any time.  So don’t tell me this stuff is useless.  No, it wasn’t exactly an emergency, but they did come in handy.  And gawd only knows where the flashlights might be.

Every so often I start going through areas of my house where my random collections of possessions are verging on fire hazard status.  It’s a very time consuming process because it involves a lot of decision making.  Often I’m torn between organizing some kind of a garage sale, or just starting a big bonfire.  The bonfire would be more fun, except for the guilt.  And the air polution.  So I put most things back where I found them, trying to make them look more organized and cherished and important enough to keep.

That’s not working well either since so many things mean something only to me.  I’ll just have to wait until my memory fades some more and it becomes easier to pitch stuff that I eventually don’t even recognize as mine.  Maybe I’ll start with W’s things and then tell him he must have ‘misplaced’ them himself.  Or we could move to a new house that’s half the size of this one, and be forced to downsize.  Or every time I go to visit a family member I could give them some kind of precious family heirloom that they could dispose of themselves ten minutes after I leave.  See how hard it is for me to formulate a plan when there’s so many great options?

Anyway, I can’t do anything with this cupboard today because it’s snowing.  There’s no way I’m going to lug a garbage bag out to the bin in this weather.  Probably better to wait until summer. Some things cannot be rushed.

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