William Morris famously said, "Have nothing in your home that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful."
That would be a good guideline but it's not working for me, as I inch through the kitchen and the numerous tchotchkes therein. I have plenty of time to think about this as I wash each item. Do I need three sugar and cream sets? When was the last time we used those rice bowls?
This ashtray, for example, was a souvenir from a visit to a restaurant near Milan. Back when John had an outdoor power equipment store, BCS, one of his suppliers, took us and other dealers on a tour in northern Italy. The tavern was famous for serving all sorts of game and we worked our way through meaty course after meaty course. I would have sold my soul for a salad, but none was forthcoming. But it was a memorable evening. So how to throw out this silly thing?
Or this chipped rice bowl, which I bought in the late Fifties at a newly opened import store? Back on the shelf with it.
Neither beautiful nor useful is the old doorknob, discovered in one of our fields. But it's a reminder of folks who lived here before us, the inhabitants of a house that burned back in the Fifties . . .
My mother's teapot. My father sent it from Burma during WWII. I think it's Chinese--and a rather special type of pottery. It always made excellent tea--though as it's so small, I rarely use it. Still . . .
Maybe I need to go with Ms. Kondo's advice--Does it spark joy? -- for the memorabilia.
As for Swedish Death Cleaning--getting rid of every extraneous thing your heirs wouldn't value--no way! That would leave me with a mostly empty house. I'm trying to reduce the clutter--and have culled our books pretty thoroughly. But for now, anyway, these tchotchkes, dust free at the moment, stay.
