That would be a good guideline but it's not working for me, as I inch through the kitchen and the numerous tchotchkes therein. I have plenty of time to think about this as I wash each item. Do I need three sugar and cream sets? When was the last time we used those rice bowls?
This ashtray, for example, was a souvenir from a visit to a restaurant near Milan. Back when John had an outdoor power equipment store, BCS, one of his suppliers, took us and other dealers on a tour in northern Italy. The tavern was famous for serving all sorts of game and we worked our way through meaty course after meaty course. I would have sold my soul for a salad, but none was forthcoming. But it was a memorable evening. So how to throw out this silly thing?
Or this chipped rice bowl, which I bought in the late Fifties at a newly opened import store? Back on the shelf with it.
Neither beautiful nor useful is the old doorknob, discovered in one of our fields. But it's a reminder of folks who lived here before us, the inhabitants of a house that burned back in the Fifties . . .
My mother's teapot. My father sent it from Burma during WWII. I think it's Chinese--and a rather special type of pottery. It always made excellent tea--though as it's so small, I rarely use it. Still . . .
Maybe I need to go with Ms. Kondo's advice--Does it spark joy? -- for the memorabilia.
As for Swedish Death Cleaning--getting rid of every extraneous thing your heirs wouldn't value--no way! That would leave me with a mostly empty house. I'm trying to reduce the clutter--and have culled our books pretty thoroughly. But for now, anyway, these tchotchkes, dust free at the moment, stay.
4 comments:
I do so relate to this! I bought the Kondo book, read it, thought about, and then dumped it in the trash-after having thrown it across the room. "What utter BS-" I yelled. I'm on Morris' side but have a wide streak of bowerbird in me as well. "Just making the nest pretty-" I mutter.
Are you coming to do my house Wed. this next week? Would that someone would! OK, I guess by owning all these treasures, I should do them good and clean them up. Out comes the step stool. It's great to know what some of your bits of beauty mean to you.
No, you can't dispose of things that are simply beautiful to look at. In times when I've felt up to it, we've been culling the clutter severely. I've given away about 40 cookbooks that I haven't looked at in years, bags and bags and bags of clothes in good enough condition for someone to wear, almost 20 winter coats and seasonal jackets, and a ton of shoes, some of which I had never even worn. I'm ashamed of myself for accumulating so much, but now others are using them and I feel better about it. But so many little things remain, some of them souvenirs from France, Scotland, and England (where we lived for a while long ago), many of them gifts from friends. They stay. The estate lawyer can deal with them when we're gone.
Someone will have a lot to trash when we go. We have stuff, including two sets of good dishes although we use neither. Then there are the two unused sewing machines in the basement.
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