Saturday, April 02, 2005 AD I Don't Like the Shower Gift I Bought Last Night When I buy wedding gifts, I check the registry listing and tend to look first for kitchen items. I saw just the right thing on Lisa and Carter's list, and of course Tarzhay didn't have it in stock. Nor the next item. Nor the next. So I got home last night with something from the electronics department. And I'm not happy with the choice.
A couple months ago, when some folks (including Lisa) were helping me pack and move some stuff one Saturday morning, my friend Sharon started recommending a book about decluttering. She was very enthusiastic about it. The books first suggestion is to start your decluttering in the kitchen, because there's no emotional attachment to stuff there.
My response was something along the lines of "iż...?!"
Perhaps I'm more emotionally attached to the contents of my kitchen than most folks because most of my pots and pans and such have been here all my life, but even so....
My grandmother had a trivet or something on her kitchen wall with the motto, "No matter where I serve my guests, it seems they like my kitchen best." Alas, I can hang no such motto in my postage-stamp-sized kitchen, which is not conducive to visiting. But there's a real comfort level that comes with knowing your cooking utensils. You always know exactly which pot or spoon will work just right for a given task. I'm still grieving the loss of an aluminum pot that sprung a leak a few years back. Cooking spaghetti just hasn't been the same since. My dear mom bought up a new pot for me, which is about the same size, but it's taller and narrower and just not the spaghetti pot. Not yet, at least.
Electronics wear out and have to be replaced every few years. Aside from that spaghetti pot (oh, and the pot I left boiling on the stove when I fell asleep) pots and pans can become keepsakes. Quiet, humble, unassuming to be sure -- you won't find my measuring spoons on "The Antiques Road Show" -- but precious relics none the less. I don't want to give my friends their future trash. I want to give them their future heirlooms.
My mother still knows who gave her certain items as wedding presents, even when she might not have had any other reason to think of that person in years, or even remember her. Who's going to think, 40 years after their wedding, of the person who bought them a gadget that went on the trash heap over three decades ago?
I think I'll try to find another Target and make an exchange this morning. Posted by Valerie (Kyriosity) at 4/02/2005 08:31:00 AM
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