I’m a stuff person, and I come from stuff people, we hold onto memories, there are physical pictures, items handed down, scribbles on paper, old calendars, tiny commemorative spoons, obituaries meticulously cut from local papers.
Selling your stuff is a trap — the money is almost never worth the hassle. I love just unleashing it all into the thrift stream and thinking about the shock and joy someone might experience to find those Frye boots or Mekons poster at the Goodwill.
I agree. I come back to thinking about how much joy finding that stuff at thrift stores brought me over the years. It feels like now I can be a grandmother to the next generation.
omg Jolene! She gave me a job at Reckless despite me submitting a joke resume in a ridiculous font, thinking "there's no way they really need a real resume".
This resonates on many points. I'm sitting in my new dining room, looking at stacks of boxes (and the 6 aluminum navy chairs I drove 30 minutes out in the woods to buy from a guy on FB marketplace at 9 last night). Less than a year ago, my co-parent and I uprooted two separate homes in Austin and moved 2000+ miles to live together again in Portland. After so much purging on Buy Nothing, marketplace, and foisting on neighbors, our UHaul boxes still had SO MUCH stuff in them. Long story short, we kept stuff in storage and lived in a furnished place for 10 months before moving into this house a couple weeks ago. I didn't miss most the stuff in that time. I'm glad I sold off my vinyl years ago. And I will definitely pay movers next time. And I really need to go help my parents downsize. Anyway, I love your essays, Millicent. I always read them in the quiet early morning while drinking coffee, and I frequently think about them throughout the day. Thanks!
After emptying my parents’ home of 50 years, facing the dread of moving my stuff out of a walkup after 48 years, emptying my aunt’s long time apartment, And passing the 75 year mark, realize that you can’t take it with you…some stuff is missed, but life goes on, and someone has to clean up after you.
Selling your stuff is a trap — the money is almost never worth the hassle. I love just unleashing it all into the thrift stream and thinking about the shock and joy someone might experience to find those Frye boots or Mekons poster at the Goodwill.
Exactly. Find that Thin Lizzy shirt at the thrift store. Let's keep it weird and breezy.
I agree. I come back to thinking about how much joy finding that stuff at thrift stores brought me over the years. It feels like now I can be a grandmother to the next generation.
omg Jolene! She gave me a job at Reckless despite me submitting a joke resume in a ridiculous font, thinking "there's no way they really need a real resume".
That's incredible. She saved this sealed Dead Boys 8-track for me forever.
This resonates on many points. I'm sitting in my new dining room, looking at stacks of boxes (and the 6 aluminum navy chairs I drove 30 minutes out in the woods to buy from a guy on FB marketplace at 9 last night). Less than a year ago, my co-parent and I uprooted two separate homes in Austin and moved 2000+ miles to live together again in Portland. After so much purging on Buy Nothing, marketplace, and foisting on neighbors, our UHaul boxes still had SO MUCH stuff in them. Long story short, we kept stuff in storage and lived in a furnished place for 10 months before moving into this house a couple weeks ago. I didn't miss most the stuff in that time. I'm glad I sold off my vinyl years ago. And I will definitely pay movers next time. And I really need to go help my parents downsize. Anyway, I love your essays, Millicent. I always read them in the quiet early morning while drinking coffee, and I frequently think about them throughout the day. Thanks!
Damn, thank you! You should just pull everything you actually want from your storage, slowly, and end the contract. And yes, pay movers.
After emptying my parents’ home of 50 years, facing the dread of moving my stuff out of a walkup after 48 years, emptying my aunt’s long time apartment, And passing the 75 year mark, realize that you can’t take it with you…some stuff is missed, but life goes on, and someone has to clean up after you.
Seriously. Also-trust me-there’s still plenty at this point, including the green plates I got from you, which are beloved.
Oh man, I forgot about those. They are beautiful…
They are loved.