ACCUMULATED CRAP NEEDS NEW TREASURE VAULT HOME

‘Accumulated crap’ is the name for important collections started so long ago I forget the point.

It’s also the name for the avalanche of stuff from living long enough to get dumped on.

Getting dumped on isn’t the best way of describing accumulated crap, but it fits the theme.

If like attracts like, then my individual pile of stuff must be magnetic.

But I’m married to a long-term wife, so we’ve got things together, a mix of treasure and trash that I can’t blame all on her.

More than once she wanted to box up our wedding gifts, but I was all, “Hold on there, Little Missy.”

(I’ve never called her Little Missy, should I start?)

When I go on a “Let’s clear stuff out” bender, my wife strikes right to the heart of things.

“Good, these glasses can go.”

‘These glasses’ are pastel colored crystal wine goblets, the kind you’d never buy. They were a wedding gift that grew on me, though I’ve never used one.

Like real silver silverware only used for special occasions, the wine glasses have been waiting.

To top it off they’re expensive, if that matters, so they’d go for a dollar at a garage sale. Not a dollar each, but the whole set for a buck.

What to do?

Take them out of the dark corner of a display cabinet and line them up on a window sill for light to shine through. In other words, rearrange instead of dispose.

How To Decide What Stays And What Goes

Consider this as more than a space question. Just because you have room, should you fill it with stuff you collect along the way?

More space means more stuff, and there’s already enough stuff, so change it up with ‘quality not quantity.’

The house I live in had a previous owner who must have used an interior designer. Before we moved in the place looked like a formal residence, an official home for important people to meet other important people.

In other words, it was a show-house arranged to elicit certain feelings. It was not a house that looked livable.

After we moved in it looked livable.

That’s what happens when the furniture includes two high back upholstered chairs that used to be in Doris Day’s house. Allegedly. That’s my mother in law’s story when she bought them in LA.

Does a blue velvet couch sound livable? It is, and has a few spots to prove it.

You could say we live in the house. There’s no special room with everything covered in plastic to preserve the special. We stain things in every room, tear fabric, break chairs, the works. Museum pieces they’re not.

Nothing is untouchable, which isn’t to say the house is a big dust trap. We keep it clean, but in doing so the accumulated crap becomes more apparent.

Every Drawer Full, Every Shelf Loaded

That’s not my motto, but it could be.

Besides the knickknacks and souvenirs everywhere, I could open a second hand office store.

Somehow I’ve got ten staplers, eight scotch tape dispensers, and too many paper weights to count. Lot’s a papers too.

And don’t get me started on clothes. I’ve never had a suit and tie job, but I’ve got suits and sport coats taking up closet space. For special occasions? Like the silverware and wine glasses? Yes.

I’ve got a cashmere sweater that I wear until the wife says it’s too nice to ruin. I’ve got clothes too nice to ruin that I’ve grown out of. The moths will probably ruin the sweater before I get a chance.

The key to successful deaccessioning is getting rid of the idea that you diminish the people, places, and memories the stuff reminds you of. At the same time, why live in a museum of the past?

I see drawers and boxes of my kids’ stuff and embrace it. That’s my excuse for keeping it all. It still means something. The house bedrooms are still named after them.

Call me sentimental, but the stuff in this house is proof that I’ve lived a full life, a loving life, a life where I took notice.

I take notice in other houses, too.

They Usually Need More Accumulated Crap

Before you start blindly throwing everything in a dumpster, do your research.

Is there value if you sold things? More comfort if you donate to one place instead of another?

A local foot doctor collects gently worn shoes and ships them to Africa.

Portland groups call for more coats for the homeless.

Try and target places when you start paring the pile down.

I had a neighbor in an apartment before I got married who decided to give everything away and start over.

He said it was part of his four year plan: Get rid of everything.

And that’s what he did. He even got rid of his roommate, who was the one who explained what happened.

After clearing the deck, the old neighbor bought a car, parked in a small garage with the engine running and the windows down, and died.

He went too far. Don’t do that. Getting rid of clutter doesn’t mean joining the exodus.

Just take a brave look around, and know you can make a difference in your own life.