07 July 20XX+1
My Dear Lucilius:
It is high Summer here. Not unbearable to be sure, but certainly even with insulation it is still a little warmer than I like.
In my absence, Pompeia Paulina took it upon herself to give the Cabin a thorough cleaning and reorganization, which I understand happened at her former house as well (now Young Xerxes and Statiera’s, of course). As much of a curmudgeon as I can be, even I am forced to admit that it was both called for and merited: old men bachelors may be good at a great many things, but internal home organization and even cleaning is not always one of them.
Beyond just the cleaning and re-organization, there was of course the inevitable combining of households. As I believe I have mentioned before, my house is “suddenly” decorated in a Southwestern motif that was not there before. My armoire and closet have a selection of clothes that were not there previously. Things have moved – not enough to be lost, but enough to be inconvenient at the moment when I look for them.
And wonder of wonders, my bookshelves have all been dusted.
The rabbits – always existing in the “now” – look at me with shock when I ask Pompeia Paulina about the location of something. “It has always been that way” they seem to say as they look at me and loaf, clearly enjoying the fact that two people in the home means more attention for them.
This re-organization did, however, bring up the rather pertinent question of what to do with everything else.
Once upon a time, of course, anything that was not used would have been ended up in a yard sale, local or community, or simply sent away to a donation for some charitable group. Yard sales are a thing of the past now, and charitable groups are neither present nor near nor, likely operational. And so now we have things which, although not necessarily needed now, are not easily disposed of.
I say not easily disposed of. It is not just because those yard sales and those charitable organizations no longer exist. It is because every thing now represents something of potential value, or at least something which for all we know will never be produced again.
Some of this, of course, can still be sold or given away (charity did not die just because society did). But although I like to believe that I did a good job of cleaning things out even before I moved and tried to minimize since then, even I am forced to admit that there are things that were still held on to for nostalgia or a purpose which has now disappeared.
Buried in a small wooden chest in my closet are cards, cards that are nothing but paper and pictures and signatures – but cards that hold all the significance in the world to me as they represent snippets of my life: birthdays, anniversaries, significant days, given to me by people who are no longer there. Sure, I could use the space – but I cannot bring myself to sacrifice the memories.
Others are more practical in nature: the small food processor or food dehydrator that once upon a time I used to prepare dried fruit and beef jerky, all now silenced by an absence of power that seems likely not to return anytime soon. Yes, parts of such items may still be useful – trays, for example, can still hold things – but as a unit, they are little more than paperweights now.
It is not just an idle discussion: Even if one does not need such things, where does one put them? Just laying things out and about has never been my modus operandi; like my father I like a house that is outwardly and inwardly organized. Yet there is only so much storage space in the shed to hold extra things, in a space that already full of items needed for maintenance.
We cannot just throw things away, but neither can we just keep everything. At least it makes for an interesting puzzle to think on as we work out in the garden and yard.
Your Obedient Servant, Seneca
A Post-Script of Sorts: While I have not said anything to Pompeia Paulina yet, the food situation for ourselves and indeed the community this year is a growing concern in my mind. Unlike last year, we do not have the tail end remnants of a society to pull from. I have an idea, albeit a rather ridiculous one that I will field with Young Xerxes. Better to be shot down by him than continue it up a chain without walking through it.
Where to put stuff that's no longer vital/needed/useful? That's what attics were used for or up in the garage, have a trapdoor/ladder combo myself with a floor up there, lots of storage room. Maybe build a shed? Someone has the knowledge to put down a foundation? Help with carpentry? Lumber? Nails? Shingles? And food!! there's a BIG issue to deal with once things break down. A though provoking post TB.
ReplyDeleteNylon12, given the fact that I am in the processing of looking at moving as well, once again Seneca and my thoughts run down similar paths.
DeleteIn the case of Seneca, his "Cabin" is based on the actual cabin that my Grandfather owned (and now my Uncle), so I have a pretty good idea of the lay out and space available (I also have a very crude map of the overall property layout). Simply put, there really is not much storage space available and up to this point, likely was not a problem for him. There is available space to put up something like a shed (or at least, another one). But the "what do we save and what do we get rid of" question likely still remains.
That Seneca - always questions, never answers.
I am reminded of my life after newly being married. My stuff got rearranged quickly and then slowly gravitated into the garage and finally disappearing never to be seen again. It was all done very gradually so I didn't notice until I went looking and discovered they were no longer there.
ReplyDeleteEd, that sounds very familiar.
DeleteOne of the things I am realizing as I prepare for a move is how little in fact I actually "have" here. Books of course, and Iaijustu stuff, and my ever growing souvenir selection on my desk that others bring me and some prints - beyond clothes, not much more than that.
On the other hand, it does make getting rid of things harder, because I always think "What if I need this five years from now and..."
We live in such a disposable society, with so many things intended to be thrown away. This would really be a reality check for many.
ReplyDeleteI'm reminded of an acquaintance many years ago. She and her husband bought a small cabin with no electricity (before the term "off grid" was cool) and she thought she'd pared down before they moved in. But she laughed over bringing her vacuum cleaner. "For some reason," she told me, "it never occurred to me that I couldn't use it. I just thought it was a necessity."
Leigh, you address an aspect I had not even thought of - although we do have real world experience if we look at the ability and ingenuity of the Third World in reusing items that we consider disposable. It is one thing to not have something last; it is another thing to have to make it last well beyond its expected end life - especially "single use" items.
DeleteThat is a pretty funny story. That said, we will see how the move goes - likely I will bring one or more items which do not translate in the house to apartment move.