The clutter that you're able to throw out but don't bother isn't in the "can't throw out category."
Imagine that magically all the things you don't affirmatively want would disappear from the premises, and then you'd have to override the magic for a few things, because these must be kept, even though you don't want them.
Yes, my wife's grandparents gave us a horrible early 20th century coffee serving set. It is beyond hideous, it is not even a family heirloom as it was something they bought in an antique store in the 70s and had replated. We are stuck with it until they die.
An Army duffel bag stuffed with all sorts of gear/clothing that I haven't opened in at least 20 years. I keep telling myself I might someday need a foldable shovel or camouflage poncho, but I haven't yet.
When I was first married, my parents gave me an small dining table and two matching windsor style chairs. I still use the table (as a side table in my dining room), but the windsor chairs are in disrepair -- (the spindles came unglued and the chair pieces sit in my garage) I am vaguely aware that the chairs could be reglued -- but I don't need any more chairs of that type, and even if reglued, I wouldn't trust them to seat a heavy or squirmy person without collapsing. But they go with the table and I don't want to get rid of that.
Some of the best money I've spent was hiring a person to come in to the house prior to the last move and assist with getting rid of stuff. It was great having assistance with physically getting stuff to its best new location, but also having a foil in decisions about what to keep and what to ditch.
Living in a small house, we don't really have room for don't want-won't toss. We have plenty of toys from when our kids were younger that take up too much space, but we don't want to throw it out.
As I was doing the Augean Stables job on my basement prior to moving, my neighbour said that when his time came to move he would just fill his basement with concrete.
Move. Then your choice is finally motivating yourself to get rid of it or paying the moving company to ship it. You can sell it on Craig’s List or eBay. Clothing that you only wore once or twice can go to a consignment store. You can donate it to charity. And there’s always the trash can.
"Move. Then your choice is finally motivating yourself to get rid of it or paying the moving company to ship it. You can sell it on Craig’s List or eBay...."
I'm trying to get you to visualize that occurring, but you're being stuck keeping some items. If you want to talk about the moving strategy, then the category can be understood by picturing yourself — as you go through everything — encountering an item that you know you don't want, you actively would like to be rid of, but that you nevertheless realize you will have to pack up and take with you to the new abode.
Nope. Not a thing I don't want. We cut our living space by 2/3 when we retired. We went for a beautiful view outside instead of things to look at inside. Nothing comes in unless it's to replace something that's going out or is going to get used up. I wouldn't call us "minimalist", and 1/3 of the space we had before comes nowhere near a tiny house. But we are definitely "uncluttered".
The number one category is books I’ve purchased, read, and will never read again. One wall of our basement is lined with books. Every five years I take a shot at thinning them out; I even daydream about just giving, for example, my entire theology library away to some needy seminary student. And time hurries on.
BTW, a really wonderful movie about this topic is HELLO MY NAME IS DORIS by Sally Field. She absolutely nails the older single woman with cats who can’t let anything go. One ski. Stacks of magazines. Each item with a story behind it.
My grandfather's shaving mirror. I keep it because it was precious to my mother who was precious to me. I know if I don't keep it nobody will. It would end up as trash. I don't want to see that even though I know that is where it end up when I am gone.
I rarely throw things away because I think someone, somewhere, some day, might have a use for it. I am not a child of the Depression but I have a hard time discarding things that someone else might find a use for.
I've got every leather jacket I've ever owned, going back 30 years. Some are too worn to be useful and others are just too small to fit. I can't bring myself to get rid of them.
My wife and I have for years had two rented storage spaces. I doubt the cumulative market value of the contents is worth one year's rent on a single space. But were I to suggest getting rid of the contents and saving money on rent, well . . . it would be ugly. Instead she chastises me for wasting money by leaving lights on when I leave the room.
My late father in law's letters to my late mother in law - from when he was married to another. They are precious and charming and funny and illustrate how madly in love they were, but they still cause very mixed feelings for me. He was a glamorous diplomat travelling the world and writing to his paramour (who would become his second wife and the mother of his youngest son, the love of MY life) of his adventures -- but he had a wife he'd married too young and a houseful of children at home he was neglecting to pursue the above. Mixed feelings when I see that leather satchel of letters.
It used to be my Mormon underwear (or garments as the faithful called them). I wanted to throw them out and have normal underwear, but couldn't because of religious commitments. Luckily I got over that.
I've probably got about $400 or $500 worth of old tools that have entered my collection throughout the years, most of which I have newer versions of, that I don't really want but can't discard or sell because I worry that someday I could need them. I've been as close as holding a set of old punches, files, and chisels over an open garbage can, being unable to let them go, and finally returning them to my tool chest (wifey calls it my toy box - she's not far off). Yeah, I've got newer versions of all of them, but what if one breaks during use and a need a substitute? I'd rather have one at hand than be forced to buy another one. Something about old hand tools gives them a mystical aura - like they alone are the truly unbreakable ones. I did concede to at least sharpen my old chisels and re-cut my old files, so I could credibly claim they were ready for action in a pinch.
Can't? I had an old treadmill that broke, and I was physically incapable of throwing it out. I sawed it into pieces. Then, I was physically capable of throwing it out.
Does that help, Professor? (Or did you mean to use another word besides "can't"?)
Gifts and photo albums are the worst offenders. If the gift-giver might visit your home you can't get rid of a gift that is large and/or visible. Especially if it was expensive. Photo albums...when my mom died last year she actually did throw away a bunch of old photo albums and it was upsetting to me and my sister. But at least neither of us needs to store them now. Other items are formal clothing, you might need to go to a fancy party some day! Weird cooking equipment & utensils. Foodstuffs like spices that don't expire. Sentimental items like cassettes that hold recordings of a loved one's voice, even if you no longer have a cassette player. VHS tapes when you no longer have a VHS player.
Also "important" papers like previous years' tax returns, or warranty information and manuals for things that you still own. Car titles. Insurance policy documents. Receipts for home improvements. Copies of wills, death certificates, marriage licenses, divorce decrees. Stuff you will probably never need but have to keep just in case.
Tax returns have an expiration date. Check and ditch.
When I helped my parents move, they had boxes of family letters and diaries. It seemed like every other great aunt or uncle of each of them had written an unpublished memoir. Simply impossible to get rid of that stuff. Someone saved those letters and wrote those memoirs thinking of us, the descendants.
@Althouse, if you saw our basement you’d see what mathematicians call an existence proof that such exists. We got rid f a lot when we moved, but yes, there were things we kept that we shouldn’t have.
Old hand tools, especially dull hand saws. Someday, I'll learn how to correctly sharpen those things...all the old hardware store guys are either dead or retired.
A while ago IKEA did a short-lived ad campaign where they made fun of people who had sentimental attachments to household items which stopped them from replacing those items with ones from IKEA. Maybe those cold-blooded Scandinavians didn't understand Sentiment among us soppy Yanks.
The word you are looking for is, of course, found in Tolkien: mathom
lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Mathom
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/mathom
http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Mathoms
Mathoms Mathoms
Mathom Lore by Robin Wood Mathoms was an old word of the hobbit-dialect, not recorded as being in use outside the Shire. It was used to refer to "trinkets" or any item that had no particular immediate use.
Mathoms were many of the presents that passed from hand to hand by the Shire-hobbits - an important part of their culture - and whose owners did not wish to throw them away.
Eventually they were stored in the Mathom-house in Michel Delving.[1]
[edit] Etymology Mathom is a word invented by Tolkien, constructed from an obsolete Old English word máðm "treasure, precious thing".[2]
It is used as a rendering of the original Hobbitish word kast.[3]
References ↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, "Prologue", "Concerning Hobbits" ↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, "Nomenclature of The Lord of the Rings" in Wayne G. Hammond and Christina Scull (eds), The Lord of the Rings: A Reader's Companion, p. 782 ↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Appendix F, "On Translation"
omaha, spices definitely do expire!! please toss them and buy fresh ones as you need. Your cooking (or the cooking in your house) will be much better for it.
If I need something, I want it, on account of I try to keep my best interests at least in my thoughts. If I don’t need it, and I can only speak for my personal stuff, and I don’t want it, it finds its way to the dumpster, or a little auction they run in the next town, or the fireplace. Especially, especially stuff I actively don’t want. I am not sure I have anything that I resent needing, however.
I have some old legal papers over a workers' comp settlement because my lawyer told me to hold onto them, indefinitely. My employer had fought my claim, and for a year and a half I lived on my credit cards. Eventually I did win and got reimbursed for my medical expenses, etc. Now the papers are a reminder of a bad time and also that bad things can happen. Count your blessings.
I have a winter coat which has an inner jacket and the combination absolutely will keep me warm no matter what Wisconsin winter does. And it only cost $25 ten years ago. But I hate it because of certain aspects of its style but it's against my rules to throw out something that isn't worn or torn. It seems to be indestructible and is also washable. My beautiful London Fog coat brushed against wire and tore but this thing hasn't a scratch. I crushed it under my suitcases to protect my laptop from jars while I travelled but the wrinkles hung out in a day. I'm glad it's here when it snows but I'd like to slap it.
I also have some religious pictures inherited from my parents which are sun-faded but I can't throw them out. And some napkins my mother made, which I don't like, but couldn't throw out or even give away except to my sisters. And they are trying to pass table cloths to me - these things are mathoms.
And I have some boxes of photocopies of the back-up for a project I started 25 years ago. Now such documents would be online and download to my computer but then it was different. I went to libraries and got them. I think I should keep them - maybe they aren't online. Each time I move I go through a lot of them and cut down the total and so by moving I've cut them down to a third of what they were. But they won't disappear till I'm dead and then they'll be gone in 60 seconds. Oh, well.
If I have something valuable that I don’t use anymore, that I don’t feel like selling, because they are not that valuable, I am sure to give them away, because I can’t stand the though of them being sold in an estate sale for $2, or whatever. Doesn’t apply to junk that nobody wants, that goes in the dumpster.
We were moving from our Emeryville place to one in Rockridge. My then-boyfriend (now-husband) heard a cry of utter despair from inside. I had just discovered a whole cache of big boxes that I'd forgotten even existed. They'd lain in the back of a closet for the last eight years. We chucked them unopened. I figure if you haven't needed something in eight years, you're unlikely to need it in the next eight, or eighty.
Ann, there are things I'm very reluctant to throw out, especially books. There are, for example, at least three complete Shakespeares here. One is mine; one belonged to my sister-in-law; another to my mother-in-law. I think somewhere here is my other one, the one I bought at a second-hand store after seeing Richard III at "Shakespeare In the Park." Who needs four Shakespeares where one will do? But all of them mean something to me.
Then there are the plain accidents. I recently bought P. D. James' Sleep No More in hardcover, forgetting that I already owned it on Kindle. I've done the same thing a few times with CDs -- double-buying a volume of Boccherini quintets, say, or Jordi Savall's take on the orchestra of Louis XIII. Back when I had access to Berkeley's CD-resale market this was easy to fix, but not in Salem. So they sit around until I can find a kid who would be interested.
I should add that there's a separate category of "books too damaged to do anything with but throw out." Some of these I have bought twice, but haven't thrown out the crippled one yet. George Will's The Pursuit of Happiness, and Other Sobering Thoughts is one. My copy of the Mandelbaum translation of Dante's Purgatorio is toast. So is Atlas Shrugged, which is in three pieces now.
This answer is easy. It has been haunting me for most of the past two years.
Maternity clothes. Perfectly preserved newborn/infant/toddler clothes for 3 children. Any baby gear at all (swings, cribs, pack n plays, bottles, breast pumps,high chairs, far too many useless objects that seemed essential but definitely were not). All of it is packed neatly away in organized totes in my basement, occupying at least three quarters of our storage room. All of it has sat there, ready to be passed on, as friend after friend announces a new pregnancy and starts asking for hand-me-downs. My obligation as the first of my group to have children was to buy all the things and hand down all the things. The excuses to hold on to the things are stronger than the urge to move on to a new phase in life.
I just can't bring myself to believe the baby years may be over. At 32, the thought of adding a fourth is constantly on my mind as the ticking of the clock grows louder and faster. That ticking drowns out the internal voice that says "but you'll never make partner" and "another ''medical leave'/ year of reduced productivity means the end of your career." The thoughts of a fourth round of sleepless nights, constant nausea, another miserable pregnancy, endless crying (by the newborn, the fighting oldersiblings who have just discovered how to push each other's buttons, by the former youngest who still doesn't have words to express his frustration, but most of all by me), sibling rivalry, crippling postpartum anxiety and ridiculous daycare costs should be enough to drown out this voice. They aren't.
I'm sure the totes will all be safe in my basement for a little while longer. There is an aching in my heart and more than enough room in my shiny new minivan.
In the first few years after my father died, I couldn't bear to get rid of anything he had given us, even toys the kids had outgrown that he probably didn't think much of when they were purchased. The thrift store people came to take a truckload of stuff out of our garage, and my husband accidentally gave them a box of such toys that wasn't supposed to go. By the time we figured it out, the box had already been sorted, and the toys put out on the shelves. So there I was at the thrift store, scouring the shelves and buying back stuff I didn't even want. (I've since let that stuff go.)
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६४ टिप्पण्या:
It's not about wanting. It's about not cleaning up.
"It's about not cleaning up."
Not in the stated category.
The clutter that you're able to throw out but don't bother isn't in the "can't throw out category."
Imagine that magically all the things you don't affirmatively want would disappear from the premises, and then you'd have to override the magic for a few things, because these must be kept, even though you don't want them.
That's the category I am defining.
My head.
Who is General McMaster!
My cold sore. :(
The playlist they're running through the speakers of this coffeehouse.
Yes, my wife's grandparents gave us a horrible early 20th century coffee serving set. It is beyond hideous, it is not even a family heirloom as it was something they bought in an antique store in the 70s and had replated. We are stuck with it until they die.
The wedding present we have to use when the giver shows up.
Luckily, after 25 years, that category is very very small.
And some of it might have gotten "lost" when we moved.
-XC
An Army duffel bag stuffed with all sorts of gear/clothing that I haven't opened in at least 20 years. I keep telling myself I might someday need a foldable shovel or camouflage poncho, but I haven't yet.
When I was first married, my parents gave me an small dining table and two matching windsor style chairs. I still use the table (as a side table in my dining room), but the windsor chairs are in disrepair -- (the spindles came unglued and the chair pieces sit in my garage) I am vaguely aware that the chairs could be reglued -- but I don't need any more chairs of that type, and even if reglued, I wouldn't trust them to seat a heavy or squirmy person without collapsing. But they go with the table and I don't want to get rid of that.
Emergency food supplies from Y2K, under the stairs and behind the closet. I'm afraid to look.
There's plenty of that in my house. Parents' old furniture for example. How can you throw out furniture?
I'm trying very hard not to let any more come into the house. The experience of cleaning out a parent's house really cures the need to save "stuff".
At some point I'll tackle the mountain of junk in the basement.
Files from my law practice that I must hold on to for seven years. Not sure if that really applies to retired lawyers, but better to be safe.
Old tax returns
Lots of nice, warm clothes from decades in Minnesota, now unneeded in Nevada. But you never know.
Some of the best money I've spent was hiring a person to come in to the house prior to the last move and assist with getting rid of stuff. It was great having assistance with physically getting stuff to its best new location, but also having a foil in decisions about what to keep and what to ditch.
Violin and a Russian telescope.
Living in a small house, we don't really have room for don't want-won't toss. We have plenty of toys from when our kids were younger that take up too much space, but we don't want to throw it out.
As I was doing the Augean Stables job on my basement prior to moving, my neighbour said that when his time came to move he would just fill his basement with concrete.
Move. Then your choice is finally motivating yourself to get rid of it or paying the moving company to ship it. You can sell it on Craig’s List or eBay. Clothing that you only wore once or twice can go to a consignment store. You can donate it to charity. And there’s always the trash can.
Or you can pay to move it to your new home.
@Meade, careful! Make sure she’s not writing about you!
"Move. Then your choice is finally motivating yourself to get rid of it or paying the moving company to ship it. You can sell it on Craig’s List or eBay...."
I'm trying to get you to visualize that occurring, but you're being stuck keeping some items. If you want to talk about the moving strategy, then the category can be understood by picturing yourself — as you go through everything — encountering an item that you know you don't want, you actively would like to be rid of, but that you nevertheless realize you will have to pack up and take with you to the new abode.
See? That's my question: What is that thing?
Nope. Not a thing I don't want. We cut our living space by 2/3 when we retired. We went for a beautiful view outside instead of things to look at inside. Nothing comes in unless it's to replace something that's going out or is going to get used up. I wouldn't call us "minimalist", and 1/3 of the space we had before comes nowhere near a tiny house. But we are definitely "uncluttered".
What is that thing?
My late Mother's good dishes and glassware. But the kids don't want it.
This is why you can't have a little house.
The number one category is books I’ve purchased, read, and will never read again. One wall of our basement is lined with books. Every five years I take a shot at thinning them out; I even daydream about just giving, for example, my entire theology library away to some needy seminary student. And time hurries on.
BTW, a really wonderful movie about this topic is HELLO MY NAME IS DORIS by Sally Field. She absolutely nails the older single woman with cats who can’t let anything go. One ski. Stacks of magazines. Each item with a story behind it.
I realize my last comment was about hoarding, not “things you don’t want but can’t get rid of.” But if we didn’t have topic creep, where would we be?
My grandfather's shaving mirror. I keep it because it was precious to my mother who was precious to me. I know if I don't keep it nobody will. It would end up as trash. I don't want to see that even though I know that is where it end up when I am gone.
"How can you throw out furniture?"
BTUs. You need to think BTUs. There's energy locked up in that old furniture.
It's not as if you couldn't still honestly say, "I used the old furniture." It's just a, umm, alternate use.
I rarely throw things away because I think someone, somewhere, some day, might have a use for it. I am not a child of the Depression but I have a hard time discarding things that someone else might find a use for.
I've got every leather jacket I've ever owned, going back 30 years. Some are too worn to be useful and others are just too small to fit. I can't bring myself to get rid of them.
My wife and I have for years had two rented storage spaces. I doubt the cumulative market value of the contents is worth one year's rent on a single space. But were I to suggest getting rid of the contents and saving money on rent, well . . . it would be ugly. Instead she chastises me for wasting money by leaving lights on when I leave the room.
My late father in law's letters to my late mother in law - from when he was married to another. They are precious and charming and funny and illustrate how madly in love they were, but they still cause very mixed feelings for me. He was a glamorous diplomat travelling the world and writing to his paramour (who would become his second wife and the mother of his youngest son, the love of MY life) of his adventures -- but he had a wife he'd married too young and a houseful of children at home he was neglecting to pursue the above. Mixed feelings when I see that leather satchel of letters.
I've got boxes in my garage that have been shipped unopened several times across the Atlantic Ocean and remain unopened 25 years later.
About a year ago I lost weight and had to buy new clothes. All of my old clothes are bundled up for Goodwill, but I can’t drop them off.
It used to be my Mormon underwear (or garments as the faithful called them). I wanted to throw them out and have normal underwear, but couldn't because of religious commitments. Luckily I got over that.
I've probably got about $400 or $500 worth of old tools that have entered my collection throughout the years, most of which I have newer versions of, that I don't really want but can't discard or sell because I worry that someday I could need them. I've been as close as holding a set of old punches, files, and chisels over an open garbage can, being unable to let them go, and finally returning them to my tool chest (wifey calls it my toy box - she's not far off). Yeah, I've got newer versions of all of them, but what if one breaks during use and a need a substitute? I'd rather have one at hand than be forced to buy another one. Something about old hand tools gives them a mystical aura - like they alone are the truly unbreakable ones. I did concede to at least sharpen my old chisels and re-cut my old files, so I could credibly claim they were ready for action in a pinch.
Can't? I had an old treadmill that broke, and I was physically incapable of throwing it out. I sawed it into pieces. Then, I was physically capable of throwing it out.
Does that help, Professor? (Or did you mean to use another word besides "can't"?)
Gifts and photo albums are the worst offenders. If the gift-giver might visit your home you can't get rid of a gift that is large and/or visible. Especially if it was expensive. Photo albums...when my mom died last year she actually did throw away a bunch of old photo albums and it was upsetting to me and my sister. But at least neither of us needs to store them now. Other items are formal clothing, you might need to go to a fancy party some day! Weird cooking equipment & utensils. Foodstuffs like spices that don't expire. Sentimental items like cassettes that hold recordings of a loved one's voice, even if you no longer have a cassette player. VHS tapes when you no longer have a VHS player.
Also "important" papers like previous years' tax returns, or warranty information and manuals for things that you still own. Car titles. Insurance policy documents. Receipts for home improvements. Copies of wills, death certificates, marriage licenses, divorce decrees. Stuff you will probably never need but have to keep just in case.
SDaly, sometimes it doesn't matter if you don't believe in divorce. It only takes one person to file.
Tax returns have an expiration date. Check and ditch.
When I helped my parents move, they had boxes of family letters and diaries. It seemed like every other great aunt or uncle of each of them had written an unpublished memoir. Simply impossible to get rid of that stuff. Someone saved those letters and wrote those memoirs thinking of us, the descendants.
@Althouse, if you saw our basement you’d see what mathematicians call an existence proof that such exists. We got rid f a lot when we moved, but yes, there were things we kept that we shouldn’t have.
Old hand tools, especially dull hand saws. Someday, I'll learn how to correctly sharpen those things...all the old hardware store guys are either dead or retired.
A while ago IKEA did a short-lived ad campaign where they made fun of people who had sentimental attachments to household items which stopped them from replacing those items with ones from IKEA. Maybe those cold-blooded Scandinavians didn't understand Sentiment among us soppy Yanks.
Dear Emerita,
The word you are looking for is, of course, found in Tolkien: mathom
lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Mathom
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/mathom
http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Mathoms
Mathoms
Mathoms
Mathom Lore by Robin Wood
Mathoms was an old word of the hobbit-dialect, not recorded as being in use outside the Shire. It was used to refer to "trinkets" or any item that had no particular immediate use.
Mathoms were many of the presents that passed from hand to hand by the Shire-hobbits - an important part of their culture - and whose owners did not wish to throw them away.
Eventually they were stored in the Mathom-house in Michel Delving.[1]
[edit] Etymology
Mathom is a word invented by Tolkien, constructed from an obsolete Old English word máðm "treasure, precious thing".[2]
It is used as a rendering of the original Hobbitish word kast.[3]
References
↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, "Prologue", "Concerning Hobbits"
↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, "Nomenclature of The Lord of the Rings" in Wayne G. Hammond and Christina Scull (eds), The Lord of the Rings: A Reader's Companion, p. 782
↑ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Appendix F, "On Translation"
So what you need, professor, is a Mathom-house.
omaha, spices definitely do expire!! please toss them and buy fresh ones as you need. Your cooking (or the cooking in your house) will be much better for it.
Are we counting spouse’s stuff we wish was gone? I travel light myself.
If I need something, I want it, on account of I try to keep my best interests at least in my thoughts. If I don’t need it, and I can only speak for my personal stuff, and I don’t want it, it finds its way to the dumpster, or a little auction they run in the next town, or the fireplace. Especially, especially stuff I actively don’t want. I am not sure I have anything that I resent needing, however.
Is this “coffee house” one of those “coffee shops” in Amsterdam, BTW? The ones where the walls are brown stained from years of people smoking kef?
I have some old legal papers over a workers' comp settlement because my lawyer told me to hold onto them, indefinitely. My employer had fought my claim, and for a year and a half I lived on my credit cards. Eventually I did win and got reimbursed for my medical expenses, etc. Now the papers are a reminder of a bad time and also that bad things can happen. Count your blessings.
My old LPs. They're not in good condition, so what's the point.
But here they sit, all well over 40 years old.
Byffalo Springfield, anyone?
Several boxes of 50 year old ammunition.
I have a winter coat which has an inner jacket and the combination absolutely will keep me warm no matter what Wisconsin winter does. And it only cost $25 ten years ago. But I hate it because of certain aspects of its style but it's against my rules to throw out something that isn't worn or torn. It seems to be indestructible and is also washable. My beautiful London Fog coat brushed against wire and tore but this thing hasn't a scratch. I crushed it under my suitcases to protect my laptop from jars while I travelled but the wrinkles hung out in a day. I'm glad it's here when it snows but I'd like to slap it.
I also have some religious pictures inherited from my parents which are sun-faded but I can't throw them out. And some napkins my mother made, which I don't like, but couldn't throw out or even give away except to my sisters. And they are trying to pass table cloths to me - these things are mathoms.
And I have some boxes of photocopies of the back-up for a project I started 25 years ago. Now such documents would be online and download to my computer but then it was different. I went to libraries and got them. I think I should keep them - maybe they aren't online. Each time I move I go through a lot of them and cut down the total and so by moving I've cut them down to a third of what they were. But they won't disappear till I'm dead and then they'll be gone in 60 seconds. Oh, well.
If I have something valuable that I don’t use anymore, that I don’t feel like selling, because they are not that valuable, I am sure to give them away, because I can’t stand the though of them being sold in an estate sale for $2, or whatever. Doesn’t apply to junk that nobody wants, that goes in the dumpster.
Gahrie,
We were moving from our Emeryville place to one in Rockridge. My then-boyfriend (now-husband) heard a cry of utter despair from inside. I had just discovered a whole cache of big boxes that I'd forgotten even existed. They'd lain in the back of a closet for the last eight years. We chucked them unopened. I figure if you haven't needed something in eight years, you're unlikely to need it in the next eight, or eighty.
Ann, there are things I'm very reluctant to throw out, especially books. There are, for example, at least three complete Shakespeares here. One is mine; one belonged to my sister-in-law; another to my mother-in-law. I think somewhere here is my other one, the one I bought at a second-hand store after seeing Richard III at "Shakespeare In the Park." Who needs four Shakespeares where one will do? But all of them mean something to me.
Then there are the plain accidents. I recently bought P. D. James' Sleep No More in hardcover, forgetting that I already owned it on Kindle. I've done the same thing a few times with CDs -- double-buying a volume of Boccherini quintets, say, or Jordi Savall's take on the orchestra of Louis XIII. Back when I had access to Berkeley's CD-resale market this was easy to fix, but not in Salem. So they sit around until I can find a kid who would be interested.
I should add that there's a separate category of "books too damaged to do anything with but throw out." Some of these I have bought twice, but haven't thrown out the crippled one yet. George Will's The Pursuit of Happiness, and Other Sobering Thoughts is one. My copy of the Mandelbaum translation of Dante's Purgatorio is toast. So is Atlas Shrugged, which is in three pieces now.
Most of my life...
This answer is easy. It has been haunting me for most of the past two years.
Maternity clothes. Perfectly preserved newborn/infant/toddler clothes for 3 children. Any baby gear at all (swings, cribs, pack n plays, bottles, breast pumps,high chairs, far too many useless objects that seemed essential but definitely were not). All of it is packed neatly away in organized totes in my basement, occupying at least three quarters of our storage room. All of it has sat there, ready to be passed on, as friend after friend announces a new pregnancy and starts asking for hand-me-downs. My obligation as the first of my group to have children was to buy all the things and hand down all the things. The excuses to hold on to the things are stronger than the urge to move on to a new phase in life.
I just can't bring myself to believe the baby years may be over. At 32, the thought of adding a fourth is constantly on my mind as the ticking of the clock grows louder and faster. That ticking drowns out the internal voice that says "but you'll never make partner" and "another ''medical leave'/ year of reduced productivity means the end of your career." The thoughts of a fourth round of sleepless nights, constant nausea, another miserable pregnancy, endless crying (by the newborn, the fighting oldersiblings who have just discovered how to push each other's buttons, by the former youngest who still doesn't have words to express his frustration, but most of all by me), sibling rivalry, crippling postpartum anxiety and ridiculous daycare costs should be enough to drown out this voice. They aren't.
I'm sure the totes will all be safe in my basement for a little while longer. There is an aching in my heart and more than enough room in my shiny new minivan.
Memories - good luck with your decision. It's a wrenching one.
Tax documents.
In the first few years after my father died, I couldn't bear to get rid of anything he had given us, even toys the kids had outgrown that he probably didn't think much of when they were purchased. The thrift store people came to take a truckload of stuff out of our garage, and my husband accidentally gave them a box of such toys that wasn't supposed to go. By the time we figured it out, the box had already been sorted, and the toys put out on the shelves. So there I was at the thrift store, scouring the shelves and buying back stuff I didn't even want. (I've since let that stuff go.)
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