Attachment is an interesting concept for me, having “cleaned” myself out of two complete households, one when I went to work/live on boats for five years and again when I moved from Seattle into a 17-foot trailer. There are maybe a half dozen things I miss still: a desk, a small curved blown-glass piece, a wooden bowl. All the things I love and cherish fit into a small plastic container 20x10x8 inches. If my house was burning, that’s what I’d take. After all these years, I know it’s the old photos, that rag doll, the trinkets in the wooden box, that matter most.
As for cleaning, I wash dishes. I love having an empty sink, the dishes and silverware neatly stacked in the drying rack. I’d wash dishes forever if someone else would cook, I often joke to my friends as I wash their dishes while they’re making the meal. There’s a simplicity to dishes - they get clean, then dirty, then clean again. It’s a finished task, and yet, not really ever finished.
I appreciate your insight on this topic, Annie. Annette and I have discussed what we'd take with us from our home if we had to evacuate quickly. The list is relatively short and includes a small wooden bowl. We would need something a bit bigger than your 20x10x8 container, though. Maybe it sounds contradictory, but I acknowledge the attachment I feel to several things in my study yet at the same time, feel enough non-attachment that I would not be frantically battling through flames or risking putting myself in a tornado's path to retrieve them. I like the tactile memory that special objects evoke. I also respect the place you're coming from. For poetry books, I have purple-dot spine labels on the ones I like best. They'd fit on one shelf. I'm considering starting a digital file of favorites too. As for your love of dishwashing, I'm the polar opposite, but I get what you're saying. Come by anytime to wash dishes while I cook :-)
Very thought provoking, as you usually are Wendy, and nice thought/writing prompts.
Beautifully written and very thought-provoking. Yes, still need to start all the weeding out process.
Attachment is an interesting concept for me, having “cleaned” myself out of two complete households, one when I went to work/live on boats for five years and again when I moved from Seattle into a 17-foot trailer. There are maybe a half dozen things I miss still: a desk, a small curved blown-glass piece, a wooden bowl. All the things I love and cherish fit into a small plastic container 20x10x8 inches. If my house was burning, that’s what I’d take. After all these years, I know it’s the old photos, that rag doll, the trinkets in the wooden box, that matter most.
As for cleaning, I wash dishes. I love having an empty sink, the dishes and silverware neatly stacked in the drying rack. I’d wash dishes forever if someone else would cook, I often joke to my friends as I wash their dishes while they’re making the meal. There’s a simplicity to dishes - they get clean, then dirty, then clean again. It’s a finished task, and yet, not really ever finished.
I appreciate your insight on this topic, Annie. Annette and I have discussed what we'd take with us from our home if we had to evacuate quickly. The list is relatively short and includes a small wooden bowl. We would need something a bit bigger than your 20x10x8 container, though. Maybe it sounds contradictory, but I acknowledge the attachment I feel to several things in my study yet at the same time, feel enough non-attachment that I would not be frantically battling through flames or risking putting myself in a tornado's path to retrieve them. I like the tactile memory that special objects evoke. I also respect the place you're coming from. For poetry books, I have purple-dot spine labels on the ones I like best. They'd fit on one shelf. I'm considering starting a digital file of favorites too. As for your love of dishwashing, I'm the polar opposite, but I get what you're saying. Come by anytime to wash dishes while I cook :-)