tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667348909154981284.post1535412904714563191..comments2024-03-20T06:55:57.193-07:00Comments on Born to Blog by Beth Kaplan: clearing the lotbethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09122791819498272634noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667348909154981284.post-66674735270073291502018-11-03T12:32:16.889-07:002018-11-03T12:32:16.889-07:00I completely relate to you both - I'm also the...I completely relate to you both - I'm also the family repository of memory, Alan, as are you, Theresa; as I go through this dusty mass, I'm looking for letters, bits of story, hints of who they were and why. The problem is - I have to put all that stuff somewhere until I do something with it - and, yes, I have to do something with it. I've resolved to get rid of lots of stuff when I get home - but then, I've resolved that before. We'll see. bethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09122791819498272634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667348909154981284.post-344135687970585542018-11-03T09:08:00.846-07:002018-11-03T09:08:00.846-07:00Yes, touching -- and also familiar. When my mum di...Yes, touching -- and also familiar. When my mum died and I went with my brothers to clear out her apartment, I found so many things stored away, never used. Damask linen napkins, a wedding gift (my parents would have married 60 years the year she died) never opened. Silver. And so on. When my parents downsized from a house to an apartment, my son went to help the day they'd arranged for the Salvation Army truck to come and take away stuff they were willing to part with. The guy took one thing, my son said. (An old camping cooler with a Coca Cola logo on it.) Everything else? They rented two storage lockers at the apartment complex and simply shoved everything in there. Decades of tobacco tins of screws and bolts, yes, plastic bags, clothing too threadbare to do anything with, rusted cans of various scary chemicals (they were not organic gardeners). Like your aunt, they were thrifty and simply didn't know to stop being that way. Or when it would be time to use the lovely things they'd stored away. A family dinner wasn't that occasion. Nope. The old Melmac and plastic tablecloth would do for that. So now I use silver, linen, the Georgian fish service from J's mum, the beautiful old silver coffee pot from the late 1700s...theresahttp://www.theresakishkan.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-667348909154981284.post-86744557669298339682018-11-03T04:04:00.759-07:002018-11-03T04:04:00.759-07:00Very touching post, Beth. As an accumulator of stu...Very touching post, Beth. As an accumulator of stuff myself, your comments resonated. However, that won't stop be from going to the flea market in search of a Superman figure to go inside the mini British phone box I bought at the flea market a few weeks ago … you get the picture? I am also the "guardian" of the photos and letters that belonged to my parents, so I can relate to your dilemma. Having the music of the two brilliant Pauls as a soundtrack is inspired. I'm with you all the way here.alandmillenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09444061474903088636noreply@blogger.com