I linked to you yesterday on "How Blog Reading Brightened My Day" because of your insightful post yesterday on the "poof endings" without explanations on blogs. Virtual non-closure: not good.

Well, I've moved a lot, too, and have found it helpful to have a good friend push me through the tossing out and cut off my nostalgic stories when all it is, seems to me, is an opportunity thing-by-thing- to live absolutely backwards, which doesn't happen often.

A mezzaluna - picked one up at a flea market, hung it on the kitchen wall for decoration. What in the world would you use it for???

Wordy cheers today.

Motherpie: A mezzaluna is a chopper, used with a wooden bowl. It seems a lot of work to me to get out the food processor for a bunch of parsley, for example, and it's too easy with a processor to reduce food to liquid instead of chopped pieces.

I use it for mushrooms, gefilte fish, hard-boiled eggs, chopped liver, mixing meatloaf, basil, macerating berries for sauces...

An added pleasure, is the aroma of aromatic herbs while you're chopping, which you can't get with a food processor.

Being a sort of pack rat by nature, there are many things my children will find really stupid for keeping. My parents were avid antiquers, and I have many of their things as well as my own. My kids will not know their value. Some have real money type value, and some are just rich in their memories!

Q: "So what’s been lying around your house for decades that people are going to make fun of when you die?"
A: Me

It is more difficult to throw things away that belonged to previous generations in my family, than it is to throw away my own things; but, I've hung onto my own: Clip Board (that I bought as a freshman in college, since engineering students didn't use notebooks in 1955--that I used when flying, to hold sectionals and flight plans--and that I still use when driving solo cross-country, as in my recent trip to/from Buffy's), slide rules (12-inch 1955, 6-inch 1972 -- both, Pickets, in well-worn leather sleeves), an old vanity dresser (beaten and broken from having been loaned out to a family with 7 kids for several decades, but in use as my sewing table--that had been purchased, second-hand, in the late 1940s).

Cop Car: I hadn't thought about things from previous generations. Two that come to mind are a hideous earring box and scarred metal holder for rolled postage stamps that the lid won't stay on. But they were my mom's, so they stay and I use them both.

We have had the "let's sit down and have a chat about our estate" talk with our two kids. We got through all the serious, you need to know this kinds of things and then we told them that the price they must pay for their inheritance is that they'll have to weed their way through all our "treasures". They already know our weaknesses (packrats that we are) and said they'd just order a dumpster. I know they wouldn't do that, but at least they had a sense of humor about that task. I have a couple of things - my great-grandfather's school books (geography, reading, etc), my grandfather's school lunch pail, and baby moccasins that were made by a Nez Perce woman when my mother was born (my grandparents lived in Idaho in a small town on the Reservation). I have put notes in them so my kids will know their significance and can then decide what to keep and what to toss.

Last August I made an attempt to sort and organize "stuff" that has accumulated in my sewing room. Here are some of the oddball finds. And, uh, here.

OMG, why can't I get rid of these?

I learned a hard lesson about giving up my attachment to "things" a couple of years ago when I lived in Flagstaff, AZ in a small mountain community filled with pine trees. We were going to be flying out of Phoenix to be gone for about 10 days during a very hot, dry time of the summer and the fire danger was extreme. It was recommended to us that we pack everything of value in a couple of cartons and put them in the car so they'd be out of the house. It took us several days to sort through and decide which would be THE most important things we wanted to keep, and our decisions were not made lightly. We got everything packed up and parked the car in a hotel parking garage in Phoenix where it would remain while we were gone. When we returned, we discovered -- to our deep dismay -- that the car had been broken into and the cartons were gone. I spent several weeks grieving for my treasures, and was finally able to let it go, although I still catch myself wondering where something is, only to remember that it had been in one of the boxes. Being the kind of person who always tries to find the lesson in everything, I realized that this is important knowledge needed to empathize at a deeper level with the domestic violence survivors I work with who have left their homes with nothing but the clothes on their backs. When I left, I was able to take many of the things I cherished (some of which were in those boxes), so I didn't have to deal with that particular loss on top of everything else. It helps me to better understand their pain and anger... and helps me realize that the REALLY important things like relationships with family, friends, pets, etc. can never be lost or stolen! Thank you, Ronni, for reminding me of all this. The passage of time has eased my sorrow and I sometimes tend to forget the lessons.

I, too, have a well-seasoned cast iron skillet which elicits the aromatic memories of the falling-off-the-bone Sunday chicken dinners my mother prepared during my chiildhood and after.

Truth be told, I have many many items of hers that likely have only sentimental and emotional value, including numerous inexpensive vases, some with a few now even less attractive artifical flowers she displayed when the real ones weren't readily available, which I have been unable to bring myself to discarding.

Though my deceased husband's regular clothing was donated earlier with my daughter's help in sorting, I haven't begun to go through many of his other personal belongings, some of which might fall into a category for discarding, though he tended to be less of a "saver" than I. I do know his log book from flying days, memorabilia from his professional music days is somewhere, and I know that I will keep it when I find it.

I could not bring myself to part with a new hat given to him this past Christmas, that was not inexpensive, which our children and I had laboriously researched, finally locating one in NYC, in order to find a duplicate replacement for one he had owned since before we were married.

I have a variety of written materials which likely have value only to me, including the working scripts of every play in which I acted, produced or directed (non-professional.) Also I have materials obtained with the advent of PBS, the optimistic plans for coverage in the State of Ohio, since my goal was to one day devote my energies to the quality efforts I envisioned for their endeavor.

I have far too many sentimental items, probably most devoid of monetary value, given to me by friends, typically knick-knack dust-catcher items, others left from now departed family members which I have concluded I must sort through during the next year.

I am of the view that one of the kindest things we can do for our loved ones is to dispose of all but the most significant items we've collected, so they do not have to sort through the residue wondering, what is this, is this something of monetary value I should keep.

I must admit, Ardi's idea is tempting, but I need to write a brief explanation or history for my children of what I keep, give the rest to others, or otherwise dispose of the remaining items taking up space in my home. For many of these items, I will feel as though I am giving away a small piece of my heart.

Chancy--Mom had a straight-sided casserole dish and a smallish serving bowl shaped like an orange on the bottom half, that came up straight to the rim--in the Jewel Tea pattern that you mention. While on the way home from Buffy's several days ago, I stopped at a "welcome station" that was just 3 miles north of the Iowa/Missouri line that featured Amish quilts, aprons, etc. They also had about 20 small rooms of antiquities for sale--including a table setting for (maybe 6--I didn't count) in the same Jewel Tea pattern. I had forgotten plates, cups, saucers, etc were available in that pattern. You would have enjoyed the sight, I'm sure.

Ronni -- with this post you just jogged my memory about something that occurred around the time I started my blog & I never thought of writing about it but I think I will now. Amazing how, as the old song goes, little things mean a lot. Thanks for the mental hotfoot!

Another pack rat here. I have grandparents, parents and me stuff and no children. Have recently gotten serious about organizing, trying to think what things will look like to whoever goes thru it. I've put notes on some things I think have substantial monetary value like the Murano glass vases I toted home in 1957 while on college trip to Europe.
Other things are best kept in pictures and anecdotes. My 8 year old computer, which I just got last year as a hand-me-down is proving its usefulness for this

Last year, I moved out of my home where I accumulated twenty-six years of memorable things... OLD STUFF! Your article reminded me of when I started packing and moving out on February 15, 2005 and finally finished on April 1, 2005. My brother helped me speed up the process of moving out of my house. It was not easy to let go of my OLD STUFF things! At times I cheated and put little pieces of written papers and little trinkets into bigger moving boxes so that it would look like official packed moving boxes. I packed 26 such boxes and they have been parked in my new garage for the past year and half! I still cannot bear to open those boxes ... somehow I cannot let go of my past! It is just TOO SOON to let it go!

Would you believe that when my mother died, I kept HER "coronation of Queen Elizabeth" and "Princess Di's wedding" tchotchkes. I must be nuts. But she loved them...