Henrietta Hay's Column

A friend of mine has been trying to convince me that I will be a happier and better person if I will just de-clutter my life or, put in stronger terms, get rid of all my junk. Actually, she said that I wouldn't complain so much about not having enough time if I didn't have to spend so much of it hunting stuff. At my age that seems like a pretty strong order, but I suppose it's worth a try.

With a little research, I find that the Guru of the simple life is a guy named Don Alsett whose specialty is cleaning things. He has written several books on the subject, the latest of which is a little paperback called "Not for Packrats Only." It is his theory that clutter is the number one curse of modern society and he is here to help us eliminate it.

He is probably right, but I spent a lot of my years in what we fondly call the Great Depression when there was no such thing as clutter. Just about everything had a use. We had a saying then, "Use it up, make it do, or do without." Like most people of my generation, I got the lesson got pounded in firmly. Don't throw anything out if there is any use left in it. So for a depression kid, de-cluttering is very nearly an emotional impossibility. But this is 1990 and I must be strong. Well, I'll think about it.

Recently in the course of hunting for something quite different, I found a battered, burned tin cookie sheet that would make a fine cover for a midget dumpster. Obviously I paid to have it moved at least once. I know I haven't used it since 1973, because that was the year I swore off baking cookies for political reasons. That particular item was quite clearly junk and was easy to throw away, but I shudder at all the years that it took up space.

Some things, though, are not so easy. It's really hard to be tough in closets. We all have clothes that we simply don't wear any more, never will wear, would not be caught wearing to a mud wrestling match. But do we have the character to get rid of them? Not without great pain and anguish. What if they come back in style? Well, what if they do? By then we'll be much too old to wear them.

Many years ago I invested in a pair of beautiful fairly expensive boots that are still in fine condition. Trouble is, they never did fit very well and is now completely unwearable. OK they do take up room that I need for my Reeboks, but what if my feet change shape next year and I need them? Well, on mature consideration, they can go.

The real obstacle to de-cluttering is sentiment. The hardest things of all to get rid of are things with sentimental value, and that can mean nearly everything in the house. Way back in a cupboard I have a wooden matchbox. It is made of 3/4" plywood and holds one of those big old boxes of wooden matches. It is carefully varnished and decorated with decals. Useful? No. Beautiful? Well, let's just say that one of my sons made it for me when he was in junior high. Sorry, that stays no matter how much room it takes.

And pictures - now there's the ultimate test. I have been taking pictures since I was a kid, starting with a little box Brownie. That means a lot of pictures, and I suspect that I have seldom discarded a print or a slide. But the time has come. They're pushing me out of the house. I have found that the rule, "If you don't know who it is, throw it out. Even if you do, think about it," works some of the time. But the real trouble starts when I start sorting pictures of grandchildren, which have been sent to me through the years. Even though there may be six almost identical shots of one child at one time, the thought of throwing five of them out gives me cold shivers. What if their fathers ever discovered that I had not saved every picture that they so lovingly sent me? Well, pictures are memories, so they don't count as clutter. I guess can spare the room.

Take out depression memories and the sentiment and what is left to throw away? Certainly not the modern things that I have chosen and that make life pleasant. So maybe my friend and Don Alsatt are wrong. Maybe the uncluttered life is sterile and dull. Oh well, I'll think about it tomorrow.