Stuff. Goodness, do I have stuff... nicknacks and chotchkies, gismos and bobbles. Now, don't misunderstand – I am not a wealthy person and my home is tiny. Having lived to a mature age, however, I've certainly managed to acquire more than my fair share.
...A little girl's jewelry box with a spinning ballerina on top, an old S.O.S transcriber, and hundreds of books. I have a bureau, a cedar chest, shelves, a nightstand...a desk, cabinets and tables. All things that hold things. A majority of my possessions don't DO anything, they just need dusting and polishing and occasionally rearranging.
As a move is in the offing, I look around at my stuff. Shall I really transfer it all to another location, or should I finally scale down? I've never been a minimalist, and I can't decide if that would suit me. My father's pipe and my mother's quilt...my son's ceramic sculpture and a beloved dog's collar have to stay. A vacuum that works when it chooses, and an extra set of cutlery can obviously go. Should I continue to put out the gift of a crocheted lime green throw when that relative visits? And how about that collection of tiny boxes? Oh dear!
"One woman's treasure is another woman's Ebay."
