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The Way I’ve Scene ItBY DENISE POYERTheHubisa quiet man. Well, he is quiet unless I am trying to watch a program he is not particularly in- terested in, and then he sits right next to me to talkAdmittedly, I did not have any better ideas. Thinking perhaps the limit of three things was the problem, I added, “Okay, you can take ten things.” Still stumped, he shook his head.room. It’s just nuts. There are two of us there, and we have ten patio chairs. To the Hub, I had admitted to owning six complete sets of dishes – the ones we use daily, the replica depression glass set that is now an antique in its own right, the stored 1980’s stoneware that I bought before we married, a set of Christmas dishes, a set in the trailer, and a fabulous set of vintage pastel col- ored MELMAC. He did not know about the 1950’s set by Taylor Smith and Taylor, with their lovely aqua blue “Thistle” pattern, until we moved fur- niture to paint the spare bedroom. He said, “Did you know there is a whole box of dishes under the bed?” Dishes? What dishes? He didn’t say anything else, but I think I heard his eyes roll.Let’s Talkon the phone. Far be it for me to com- plain, but he sounds like the speaker with the nameless, faceless employ- ee repeating my order at the drive- through of a burger joint. Other than that, he has little need for chatter, and because we have been married for hundreds of years, I know this about him. When the sound of silence becomes deafening, I like to do that little thing that husbands the world over love... I like to engage him in unnecessary conversation (insert evil laughter here.)We surround ourselves with all manner of stuff. There is the stuff we each had coming into the marriage, the stuff we bought for ourselves, the stuff we bought for each other, and the stuff that was given to us or that we inherit- ed. Categorically, there is stuff we use all the time and stuff we use almost never. There is stuff we use seasonal- ly, stuff we just look at, and stuff we stuff into closets because we’re sick of looking at that stuff. Heaven forbid we get rid of it!My favorite question is, “Do you want to talk about our feelings?” Through clenched teeth and a fake smile, he always responds, “Sure.” Last night, I threw him a curve ball. I asked him, “If the house was on fire and every liv- ing thing was safe... me, you, the dogs, the fish... all safe, and you had access to everything we own, what three things would you save? He said, “Well, the lock box (long pause) and the pictures, I suppose.” And then, he was stumped.What if we want to use it again, or it was given to us by my aunt’s cous- in’s mother’s brother’s housekeeper, and she notices that I don’t have it any- more? Then what?! I guarantee that we would never miss the games we never play, the puzzles we have already put together, the old sheets that were re- placed with new ones, or three-quarters of the cooking utensils that always get jammed up in the drawer. It sounds like we live in an episode of Hoarders, but we don’t. We have a lot of house, so we can have lots of stuff without you really knowing it.If it ever does come down to pick- ing ten things, it will be like twelve for me, because I don’t have to sweat the pictures or the lock box (insert evil laugh again.) I think I’ ll definitely grab that MELMAC. I’m wondering if Christmas decorations would be con- sidered a single thing or 2000 things. Whatever the case, I do know that if we ever move to a smaller house, a bunch of this stuff will have to go. I think we should start purging his stuff right away don’t you? Maybe I’ll talk to him about that some evening after we discuss our feelings... while he watches another episode of NCIS.Collections are organized and dis- played, there is a shop area, and craftCELEBRATING SENIORS I SCENE 4405 9


































































































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