Checking Out

On the left you can see the nice little writing desk my uncle made for me may years ago.  I think it's charming.  Inasmuch as I own writing tools (and I do), I keep them here.  It also seems like a good place to keep mailing supplies like priority mail labels.  Somewhat logically, I decided to keep mortgage and Homeowner's Association coupons here, since they were things that need to be mailed.  Somewhat less logically, carbon copies of my used checks land here, as well.

Um, I don't need mortgage payment coupons for the mortgage I paid off.  I don't really need the HOA coupons either, since I go to the office in person and pay that six months at a time.  I definitely don't need copies of checks going back to 2003, given that I track everything in Quicken, can get copies of checks from my credit union, and have never had occasion to refer to a check more than a couple of months old.  So, those seventeen (!) old checkbooks got shredded.  Also seen, address labels, Christmas ones at that, from my previous address. 

The thought here is that by removing these items from the writing desk, the odds go up that if I'm ever looking for something in there, I could actually find it!

Postdiluvian

Today's installment from the random crap generator is a booklet on "Repairing Your Flooded Home."  I likely obtained this while working at FEMA.  This dates it to around 1994.  Now that I finally own an actual home, I have concluded that I don't need this.  I'm not in a flood zone.  That guarantees nothing, of course, but there have been two significant floods since I've lived in this city (one was a 100-year flood) and this particular area was not affected.  I also can't help but think that if my house actually did flood, I probably wouldn't be able to find the booklet.                                                                                                                                    

Silverware, The Sequel

In a previous episode, I decided I didn't need the set of Pier One silverware that had supplemented the Fleur de Luce I was already using. So this episode is about the Fleur de Luce (FdL) itself. .  Recap: both are being replaced by my mother's "good" silverplate in the Queen Bess pattern.

The FdL must have entered my life, as so many objects have, by way of my brother's estate.  I honestly don't remember.  I just know that at some point, while I was still living in the apartment, I built my set off of eBay, and it's been my everyday silverware for more than 10 years.  It's perfectly nice.  And I am keeping a few pieces - small tea spoons, the butter knife, and some serving pieces.  Here it is worth repeating one of my show's themes, that I don't entertain much, no one cares what my silverware looks like, so I might as well keep, and NOT keep, whatever I please.  I have other random stuff, too - the spoon in my sugarbowl is yet another pattern, one whose name I don't recall at the moment.  And I have five or six pieces of my Dad's favorite silverware, from the Santa Fe railroad.  That little bit has large spoons the QB set lacks, so all is good.

Theoretically the FdL is "worth something."  I've got a few pieces listed on eBay, but there don't look to be any bites, so this pile may get a little bigger.  It's going in the donation box, and hopefully someone who recognizes it for what it is will score a good deal.

Cutting the Apron Strings

This apron was the class project for Home Ec in the 7th grade.  That means I've been toting it around for three decades now.  Do I need an apron?  No.  I just wear old tee shirts and old jeans if I  expect to make a mess cooking.  Do I, in fact, own another apron?  Why yes, I do.  I don't actually use that one, either, because it is "too nice," but perhaps I can get over that.  You can see it wadded up in the lower left portion of the photo, btw.

Although this was my very first ever real sewing project, sewing has never been a major part of my life, and I have no reason to get sentimental about it.  I have also held on to another project, from a year or two later -  a very nice wool skirt with pockets and a zipper.  It is as good as anything from a store, and still fits me (three decades later!) so I'm keeping that as my memory of middle school sewing class.  (Thanks, Mrs. Holm!)
It's a toss because I washed it, and it still has a small stain, and I can't imagine it having any value, even at a thrift shop.  I could probably compost it, but I think I need it gone.

Salt and Pepper (Compare and Contrast)

Bought the boxed (note yes, the original box)  shaker set a few years ago, looking to make my dining room table, such as it is, look more like it belongs to a grown up.  Didn't work, since, like many people, my table is mostly a place for me to store junk mail.  The shakers, specifically, were used mostly to prop up priority stuff I didn't want buried in the regular layers.
So I've gotten better at dealing with paper, and on the right you can see the shakers I actually do use.  The blue pepper grinder with the faucet handle sufficiently amuses my few guests, and the plain salt shaker is fine for my everyday salting needs (my last blood pressure reading: 90/65, thankyouverymuch)

Why, Why . . . You Masher, You!

OK, technically is it a ricer, not a masher.
Allegedly, the texture produced by putting potatoes through this device (it works like a garlic press) is vastly superior to that produced by the mashing/mixer method with which I was raised.  I let the thing sit around for several years before checking out its story, which I just got around to a few weeks ago.
Meh, not impressed.  I mean, it was fine, but nothing to write home about, you know?  And again, I have to examine the way I actually live.  I don't make mashed potatoes just for myself; I only did it this one time to test the gadget.  I think it would be a pain for a large quantity of potatoes.  I can't even think of the last time I made mashed potatoes for company, either. 

Let me speak here of another gadget, not shown, which I do use, just for a compare-and-contrast.  I have a mandolin ("It was a Gift!") which I use infrequently, but I get output that I am unable/unwilling to duplicate by hand, so it gets to stay.

Ain't gonna happen

Basically this is another episode of "More miscellaneous crap," and the star of the show is the photo album.  I bought this a few years ago when I thought I was going to get into scrapbooking.  Yeah, right.  I cannot think of any circumstance, under any condition, in which I would sit down with someone and go through an album of my childhood photos.  The real solution is to get rid of the album, scan the photos to ease my conscience, load them into a digital photo frame if I really wanted to look at them, and use a custom book application like Blurb if I really wanted to have a book at some unforeseen and unlikely point in the future..
The shower mat, a minor character, is a recent acquisition, purchased because the bottom of my bathtub is a little off-looking.   But getting a bathmat full of soap scum and my hair is even more disgusting to me, so I gave this a bleach rinse and am going to donate it.  Yes, I still had the packaging.
The photo frame and light string are just extras in the scene and will be receiving no credits in this production.

Books on the Go

More books.  I doubt this will be the last load.  I've already blogged about a couple of there.  Others are duplicates, things I will never read again, things I never read in the first place, the usual.  Some are cheap paperback editions of the classics - these are available instantly on Kindle should I need to read them again.  I don't really know when that's going to happen for The Digest of Roman Law. 
Off to Friends of the Library.
Having said that, I have plenty of books in the public domain of which I am definitely keeping the dead-tree version. In many cases, these are books that have been translated from other languages.  Some translations are better than others, and I've noticed that translated Kindle editions, especially the free/$.99 ones, get bad reviews on this score.  I actually still read 19th century French literature because I like it, so this is important to me.  So I got rid of Dickens and Shakespeare, but I'm keeping Zola and Balzac.

The Fabric of Our Lives

If you are any sort of crafter with wood, yarn, fabric, or thread, you probably keep leftover material in case you can use it for another project.  Yeah, right.  Either you don't really use it at all, or you use only a tiny fraction of what you save.  Since sewing isn't even my primary craft (I only make curtains, chair covers, really simple stuff) there is no real likelihood that I will have a chance to use leftovers.  That's what the middle two fabrics are.  The one on the right is a piece of fabric that floated around my mother's home, for presumably the same reason, for as long as I can remember, so it is at least 40 years old.  Anyway, I've packaged them up nicely and labeled them in hopes that they'll do some good in someone else's to-do pile.
The piece on the left is a bedskirt.  I don't have those colors/that pattern on my bed anymore.  I do still have the sheets, since I use them on the futon for guests (already a totally endangered species in my environment, anyway), but I'm not going to bother with the bedskirt there. 
The impractical comforter from this set was documented in an early March post.

Measure twice

"Measure twice, cut once."  Or not at all, in my case, because I did *not* measure properly for this custom-made bathroom mirror, and could not install it as planned during my 2010 remodel.  Tried to sell it on Craigslist, no luck.  It's been bumping from condo to storage to house for two years now.  Today, I dropped it off at the local Habitat for Humanity store, along with some window hardware and some other random bits of homeowner flotsam such as a 1/2" plastic elbow, a paint can lid, a faucet handle.
The window hardware consisted of: some drapery rods from the condo, and I'm using new hardware in this house, so it can go, and also two sets of vertical blinds from the extra bedroom, which I'm sure was fine when it was used as an office, which is what I think the previous resident used it for, but I'm going to put in something a little more decorative.

Misc Crap

The boda bag was a gift from my brother, who somehow retained the memory that I really liked using a boda bag for my water supply for hiking . . . twenty-five years ago.  It is kinda cool, but I use lightweight aluminum bottles now. 
The chain is for some panels of cheap stained glass I had in the condo.  From day 1 I installed those with small hooks, because of where I was putting them.  I will never use this chain. 
The handled object is one of those jobbies for scraping dead skin off the soles of your feet.  It doesn't work very well.  I kept it because it has a Dr. Scholl logo and I think it is from the days when my mother worked for that company. 
The eyeglass case is damaged (the metal bits that make it open/shut have fallen out and gotten lost).  I generally just wrap my glasses in a bit of microfiber cleaning fabric, anyway.
The foam is from Dad's model train storage.
The carabiner is a cheap giveaway from my company.

These Boots are Made for Walkin'

Don't know how long I've had these - 8 or 9 years, I would guess.  They are still in decent condition.  I didn't wear them at all this last fall/winter.  I have other pairs of boots (one brown, one black) that are more, well, work-appropriate.  I also have a grungier, lower-heeled old pair that is suitable for mucking around in. 
This pair can go to someone else who hasn't outgrown that look yet.  And yes, that is the original box.

Fantastic Plastic

This little plastic box was left behind when The Kidlet moved out.  I think she used it as a first aid kit.  I've been stuck thinking I could use it for something, and recently gave up.  It has a #6 recycling icon, so I'll save it for my next trip to Whole Foods or wherever I can recycle the unpopular plastics.

But wait!  I might be able to use it after all!  I was inspecting the corn this morning and discovered earwigs.  Reading up on the critters, it seems I can make a trap for them with a shallow container filled with vegetable oil (or beer, or soapy water).  If I don't catch anything, I can go ahead and recycle it.  (If it winds up full of drowned, dead earwigs floating in vegetable oil, I will probably throw it away.)