EASY DOES IT

We’ve been sorting and clearing for a few years. It’s gone well so far. The attics are empty. Most of my books are prioritized and the most precious of mine have moved East. We’ve talked a lot about the art and furniture that is important to us both. Gary even completely cleared his corner of the living room!

Gary emptied his desk—everything! The desk remains empty, the contents shown here are sorted and stashed invisibly in Portland. Other of his things are set in prominent locations but they do not show in this photo. It all matters to him, and so do the 29 boxes he constructed from my roll cardboard I using on my loom. Each has a shelf of CDs. They will fit under the bed, and Gary wants them kept though he’s not sure he will ever open those carefully constructed and labeled boxes.
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CLEANING HOUSE, pt. 2

One day I only sorted a single box, the next day I powered through six. Negatives and family photos defy intentions. Nevertheless, I have made progress even during a “Very Bad Week.”

My grandfather’s canes and my dad’s fishing poles remain undisturbed, but the stacks of boxes on the bed are gone, and some of what was stashed on the floor too. The Kitchen Queen in the far corner will be leaving the building, because it can. It is a handsome piece, but no longer fits in our kitchen and does not belong in this bedroom. (Anyone?) The pew is barely visible against the taller windows. It will find its new place once the kitchen furniture moves out, probably next week. I returned new bedding I bought last week. The linen closet is already too full.

My upcoming 10k, diet, and writing. A body and a cherry pitter. Regaining control?

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CLEANING HOUSE, pt. 1

A few days ago I ran five miles and began sorting boxes. Gary emptied the attics last month. Six months ago I began running again. Two years ago I decided enough was enough and I would eat better and lose some weight. We began isolating from Covid in March 2020.

All the boxes stored in the north and south attic went into the largest bedroom. Then we emptied the huge closet in that room and everything from under the bed came out.

I’d already sorted six boxes before taking this “before” photo. The canes hanging from the tester were my grandfather’s. There are leash sticks for a wider loom than I have stacked at right, plus two of my dad’s fishing poles, leftover fabric from upholstering two chairs, empty boxes from Starbucks that are nearly vintage, and boxed Christmas ornaments. Six huge tubs of family photos and negatives are not even visible.
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DÖSTÄDNING

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I found the escutcheon plate missing from the top drawer. They key is in another lock.

My step-grandmother’s secretary desk has pride of place in our home opposite the front door. Yesterday, I began emptying this beautiful secretary, purchased in 1962 for $125. Baubles, birthday cards, baskets, and relics of childhood. Things my mother and grandmother kept, programs from Ian’s early performances, and things I had forgotten completely even existed. A pair of ancient fountain pens I will try to get working again.

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What came out of the working part of the desk. Three drawers and a cubby are empty.

I keep finding baskets and little boxes with buttons, necklaces, earrings I will never wear, campaign buttons and tiny objects without any use whatsoever. The music box will return to the desk, my grandmother’s slim leather briefcase with her maiden initials. The rest is going out the door to find a new home, leaving without regret.

Gary points out we are merely getting rid of things we do not both love and need. The “love and need” items still constitute quite a stash. It is only our half-joking effort at Swedish death cleansing, döstädning. A garage sale, giving things away, donations, etc. are an effort to make a little space in our home and in our lives.

The idea is to lighten our load, which has been burdened by being the last Priddy in my dad’s family, as well as the last in my mother’s family. Gary, with five siblings, brings less to this accumulation of stuff.

A few years ago a family member yelled at us for “not sharing” the family’s collectables. Truly, we would have been very grateful had this person taken more since they had first access to my mother’s house when it was emptied.

The family items I treasure were given to me long ago, a tiny pin, my great grandmother’s engagement gift, two lengths of wool jersey fabric that I have no more been able to cut and sew into a garment than my grandmother was. I am keeping it even so.

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Maybe I will tackle the upper display in the secretary . . . later.

And there are the objects on display in the upper glassed section of the secretary. Most of these are not “family” but objects I made or collected.

The green elephant on the second shelf came from my grandmother’s kitchen window. She would remove her wedding rings and place them on the trunk when she did the dishes. There is a little white Persian cat on the same shelf that Mom found in an antique show held at Northgate. I was with her when she first saw the kitty, but it was only later in the day she went back to buy it. She gave it to me before she died in 2007. There is a Kay Finch ceramic goldfish and a porcelain greyhound. The celadon rooster is meant to decorate the table at holidays. Aside from small ornaments, all the little woven grass baskets I bought while I was in college and working at the University Book Store are waiting for review. Also the NW basket made and given to Gary in thanks for his work at Tulalip. We will keep all the baskets, but I am afraid many of them have things inside.

To be clear, we are not preparing for death anytime soon. We are accepting of our mortality, but having cleared the homes of too many relatives ourselves, we do not want to leave an unnecessarily burdensome task for our family.