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Home
and Family
Clutter, Clutter Everywhere
by LMW
Chipped teacup by teacup, dish by unmatched dish, overflowing
garbage bags filled with old pants, ancient white, worn and
closet-stained linen, faded newspapers, shredded books,
tiles, cartons of eye glasses and faded pictures, pot covers
and broken iron hand grinders.
The Goodmans had lived a good long life but when their
earthly sojourn came to an end and it was time to bid a final
farewell to all their accumulated possessions, their children
had to cart and haul down boxes and bags of items on their
way to oblivion. A fifty year collection of good, bad and
mediocre clothing and furnishings was left on the street.
Garbage bins overflowed and no one came to claim any of the
`treasures.'
Debby felt sacrilegious, like a trespasser invading her
neighbors' space. Finally, she tore herself away from the
window. Better to dump before others dumped it for you, that
is, after you. Her mother never waited for Pesach, telling
everyone in shouting distance, "When in doubt, throw it out."
Debby preferred to go through her closets and drawers,
through her storage niches and closets as soon as possible,
than leave her children `holding the bag.' At two o'clock,
her gang would return for lunch and her vacation would end.
She got the ball rolling.
DUMP, HOLD, RECYCLE.
Garbage bags, boxes, cartons and a sturdy ladder at her
service. If there were professionals who made good money as
household consultants, she could do that, too. Right now.
What she needed was OBJECTIVITY. As in: too many objects, and
as in: "My junk is a treasure; your junk is junk."
She turned merciless. No, she did not need piles of the
ganenet's projects, non-elastic tights, sweaters with
`long arms,' worn-out stretchies with closet stains, oval
tablecloths that fit none of her tables, torn towels which
could theoretically be made into bibs or rags, but did not
have to clog up the linen closet. Tarnished silver plate
plaques and gifts in boxes could be set aside and
recycled.
The closets and shelves were now visible. Some of the
clothing which had been crushed into the closet (and she even
had a closet with a broken door due to over stuffing) could
now be washed, ironed and stored in a closet that breathed
space. Why spend time, money and energy saving and
maintaining her family's outgrown and unpopular clothing?
Some of the clothes were hand-me- downs to begin with. They
had done their share. Save them `in case'? She already had
spare pajamas, pillow cases and pants in several sizes. She
did NOT have a spare room for junk not needed.
She felt great. This was getting addictive. Like losing
weight. Dump, recycle, and retain what you need. Another rule
of thumb she had picked up along the way: if you get or buy
one new item for your children, get rid of two items that are
hardly, if ever, used. If necessary, launder more often and
live with less. Less clothing equals less laundry.
She was on the warpath. Stray photos of the ceiling and of
anonymous hills and dales and doubles of photos that had
never been sent to the folks could be sent now or -- thrown
out. If the pictures were hazy and unflattering ten years
ago, stuffed away in a drawer, you could even throw out pix.
Outdated textbooks, notebooks, torn up coloring books and
story books, stray Legos and flash cards, dog-eared magazines
and etc.'s. Bagged and junked.
Into the kitchen. Last stop. A broken blender, an electric
can opener on the wrong current, gadgets and gizmos from
bazaars, dollar stores and charity sales, or someone else's
reject pile. [Thank G-d she had not been tempted to go down
and scavange the Goodman's piles.] Cutters, slicers,
shredders, juicers, a waffle maker that was never used. A
French fry cutter than needed superhuman strength to operate.
Containers without tops; tops without containers.
She could hear Mom telling her, overseas and light years
away, "Haven't used it in a year or two? Give it away. If
it's new, gift wrap it and add a card and you're on. Or find
a friend or gemach that wants it."
In a little while she would call Mom and give her the good
news. Nachas from the children. She had gone far and
enjoyed the morning without stepping further away than her
front door.
Pesach in December. And when Pesach arrived, she was sure
that she would not be bored... Besides, by then she would
surely have accumulated a bit more and could reject the
backlog.
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