The things we think we need to save: decluttering
I was brought up to be frugal. And, like many folks, my parents and grandparents had legitimate reasons for feeling instilling those values into my siblings and me.
But when Susan and I started this business, I saw the reflection of my life in the lives of our customers. So many items have been saved “just in case” --and it is often overwhelming. So, I made a quiet promise to myself to start looking over what I have and see if I really need to save as much as I have.
To be clear, I am not a hoarder. Seriously, we're not at that level. But my household (and my husband may be worse than I, but doesn’t everyone say that?) keeps a LOT of stuff around “just in case.” We have lots of tools, jars of screws (the thing about how impossible it is to not turn into your parents? Yeah. That.), old popcorn tins, a few coffee cans, and bakeware, among many other things that share our living space.
Now, I can tell you that every one of those things has a purpose. The coffee cans? I use them to make Ukrainian Easter bread every year. Every person of Ukrainian background reading this is saying, “well, yeah” to themselves right now—if they don't have their own cans, then it's likely they got their Paska from someone who has a stash. But do I need four of coffee cans? I have four because I bake in batches of two and it's good to have some redundancy. If one gives up the ghost or gets rusty (true story), having spares on hand is important. Worse yet, what if manufacturers of the future only use bags or plastic tubs to package coffee when I need a new one? Those would be unsuitable for oven use. Then I’d have to spend money to buy an actual specialty cake pan to make my bread. Crazy talk.
As for the old popcorn tins, I used to store the flour I like best before holiday baking—and it only comes in bulk. Jars of screws? Those are my husband’s. And he would want me to tell you they are mostly not in jars anymore; most are in fishing tackle boxes, separated by size and use. I can go on, but you get the idea.
The reality is, I can go down to just two coffee tins. In this case, getting rid of all of them would just drive me to buy something else in the spring—and the point isn’t to get rid of stuff only to replace it with new (and more costly) stuff. I recognize there’s still a part of me that wants to keep those other tins as a hedge against the unknown coffee packaging market. But either future me or my kids will be happy not to deal with 40+ year-old empty coffee cans someday. And the popcorn tins? There's a store on the south side of Dayton that sells 10 lb. bags of it, so I'm good with not buying the bakery-sized bag--time to get rid of the tins.
My husband also have things that we bought purely for enjoyment. Shelves of books, Original art. Some of that is staying (non-negotiable) but it’s time to get rid of the posters that predate the original art we’ve been buying the last 30 years. We kept all the college-era framed posters in case the kids wanted them in their first apartments—think of the savings!
Here's the thing. Data shows that when your kids say they don’t want something, they usually mean it. So, now that my offspring are (mostly) living somewhere else, they have picked through what we saved, took some things, and there's still stuff left over. There will be one more “do you want this” session before the rest goes to one of our supported charities (or, I suspect, some will go to the trash...see the article on not donating things in a condition you wouldn't buy).
Just like that, I’ll take back a few more cubic feet of living space.
So I am pledging to add “get rid of something” to my weekly chores roster. I’m going to start a little at a time. And maybe someday, I’ll get to the cookbook stash. (nah).
Just some of the cookbooks Nuts and bolts like Dad used to keep
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