SAVERS AND TOSSERS

Eileen Cichello

We all have our idiosyncrasies, the things we do that frustrate, annoy or delight those fortunate or unfortunate enough to have to live with us. Take for example the simple matter of saving things or throwing them out.

I am married to a world class saver. Sam saves the rubber bands that come wrapped around our morning paper. He saves his chewing gum for another go-round. The latter has brought us to the brink, with my threatening drastic measures if I find another disgusting wad on any surface in the house.

I’m digressing. We live in an eighteen-room house, which has a full attic and full basement. There’s also a huge two-story barn. Attic, basement and barn are full. We have full file cabinets, full closets, full drawers. Every surface has "stuff" on it. You see, I’m a saver too. Sam said to me in the early years, before he realized the value of discretion, "I could give you five acres of counter space and there’d still be no place to set down a dish you take from the oven." True but perhaps better left unsaid!

What does Sam save besides rubber bands and chewing gum? Well, he does have to save all the drawings, specs, meeting notes, legal documents, etc. that go along with his architectural business. But then, there is the rest. Old TVs, washing machines, dryers, refrigerators, cameras, radios, tools, nails, architectural magazines, computer magazines, car parts, tires, old shirts that no longer fit, shoes with holes in the soles, sweaters with holes (if enough holes, it becomes a "work" sweater but unfortunately, they often get in the wrong drawer and end up being worn in the office). An old refrigerator has been pressed into service to hold paint supplies. Old cupboards and cabinets removed from the kitchen now grace attic, basement and barn.

Some ten years ago, Sam asked the kids to tidy up the barn before some repair work was done on it. He had to be out of town the day the work was undertaken and the kids set up their own criteria on what to save and what to toss. Anything questionable they threw out of the second story window. If it survived the fall, they saved it. If it didn’t, it got tossed. I’m not sure I follow the logic here but at least, it got rid of some stuff.

I have to give Sam credit. If he needs something from his assorted collections, he will remember that he has one of those whatchamajigs and can usually locate it in short order. If I have the temerity to throw out something of his, something which he may not have used in ten years, invariably within a few days, he will say to me, "Do you know where so and so is?" I cannot tell a lie but I’ve learned not to tell the whole story. Years ago I would have said, "I threw it out." Now I say, "I don’t know." After all, how could I know in what spot in the dump said object is located?

My contribution to the mayhem? I save everything I ever wrote. (Did I mention that we have a copying machine in the house? Everything gets copied!) I save Christmas cards with personal notes in them, letters from the kids and from friends, the kids’ report cards, their college applications, old stories, unpublished articles and novels, journals. Books, books, books all over the house. I do try. Periodically, I make resolutions to sort and discard. I’ll start through old files, old letters. You know what’s coming. I get immersed in reading them and two hours later, I’m in the midst of even more piles. Back it goes in the drawer. Maybe another time!

And as for the college applications, well...they wrote personal essays in those applications, made statements as to who they were as people at that time and so on. Folks, that stuff is pure treasure. Some day, I’ll go through those applications and save the essays and anything they wrote that was personal and toss the rest. It might take a while. My kids fascinate me and there I’ll be, rediscovering who they were at 17 and 18.

I also save stuff in the refrigerator because I forget it’s there. Don’t ask about our freezers.

Clothes are tough. I wear coats long enough so that everyone in the community knows when I buy a new one. After all, if it looks okay, it’s hard to justify tossing it. And there’s the items that you look at in the closet, knowing in your heart you’ll never wear them. You bought them on impulse and they never looked quite right on you, but...

Then there’s the sexy red dress that I bought years ago in a moment of madness and that I only had the nerve to wear once. It was cut down in the back to you know where and you were supposed to go bra-less in it. A friend, who had an eye on the dress for herself, told me that if I stood in a draft, a certain physical phenomenon would take place. I never wore it again but how I loved that dress! It stayed in my closet for years until finally I gave it to one of my braver daughters.

There’s also the kids’ stuff. There are plastic bags and boxes all over the attic, holding "Stuff" from their growing up years, their college years. Some have sorted through their "stuff" and taken what they want to keep to their new homes. Others don’t yet have a permanent location or don’t have the time or energy to go through the bags and boxes as they sit in piles, awaiting their fate.

I have a sister in law who amazes me. She sorts, catalogues and labels. If she hasn’t used something in a year, out it goes to the curb or the Salvation Army. Needless to say, her house presents a different appearance to ours. Her kids will be grateful to her in the future.

You see, I have this picture of our kids surveying the stuff, stuff, stuff they will have to deal with when we become incapacitated. They won’t be blessing us at that moment! I have this other picture, too... that one extra piece of paper lands on a surface in the house and with a sigh, the house implodes down into a sinkhole.

Maybe they’ll open a special landfill in Weedsport when the time comes to empty out this house.

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