More about stuff: No, you simply don’t need it

More about stuff: No, you simply don’t need it

It seemed I hit a nerve with my last column, Death and Auctions — Don’t Let It Happen to You, where I wrote about decluttering so you don’t have strangers going through your stuff after you’re gone and making ridiculously low bids considering what it cost you to get it — the ultimate insult.

I have been hearing from many people about their abundance of stuff and how they would like to do something about it. I’m not the person to ask for help. I’ve still got clothing from the 1980s.

But I’ve been thinking more about our stuff. Joe and I do not have children, so that means the obvious choice for us to pawn our stuff onto is missing. It’s probably going to make it harder to decide what happens to our stuff. My thoughts on this now are we should divide it up according to what side of the family it came from. (Red alert — fair warning to nieces and nephews — you may end up with stuff you don’t want. It’s OK to just say “no.”)

I’m not going to give the handmade toy box Joe’s grandfather made for him to anyone on my side of the family. It’s definitely going to go to someone on his side of the family. And the handmade footstool my grandfather made is staying on my side of the family.

This could get complicated. And we still have to decide what to do with the extra stuff in general.

The column sparked a conversation at Thanksgiving that I could not believe. Several of the guys mentioned they might want to get rid of their table saws. Men wanting to get rid of tools? Had I been transported to an alternative universe?

Age, of course, played a part. They really hadn’t used their table saws in a while, and any recent remodeling had been done by someone they hired to do the job. Did they really want to do any more of this messy, sometimes back-breaking remodeling and repair? The consensus was no.

Then I suggested if just one person in the family kept their table saw, that would be enough. If anyone really got desperate and needed a table saw, they could just borrow one. Seemed like a good solution. My mind is just spinning with the thought of all the unused table saws that are now sitting around in garages.

But I’m not ignoring my stuff. I’m trying to come up with solutions for the wonderful collection of depression glass I thought would fund my retirement. Has anyone checked on the prices of depression glass lately? I have, and it’s about the same as I paid for it in the 1980s — very depressing, just like the name.

There are some patterns I’m going to keep, but it’s the search that was always the most fun. I have a lot of random pieces I just had to buy because they were depression glass and I found them cheap at a garage sale. Score. I win. Except I’ve never done anything with them, and they are in boxes taking up valuable storage space.

I’m a big fan of storage containers. You can’t have too many, right? I’m changing my opinion of this because we have some extra unfilled storage containers around here, and they are just taking up space and not storing anything.

So my next project is going to be going through all the storage containers and getting rid of what’s in them that we don’t need anymore and getting rid of the actual storage containers themselves.

I wish I could come up with something Christmasy to write about, but maybe another time. Gotta go and get rid of some more stuff.