Wrestling with the replacement principle
Are you a keeper or a thrower? And if a thrower, are you ever sorry?
Take for instance, jars. Small ones, tall ones, nice, wide-rimmed ones... So convenient for storing “stuff.” The thing is, if you buy “foodstuff” in a bag, it rarely fits perfectly inside the jar selected. Why does volume look so different from one container to another, or am I just spatially challenged? If you haven’t picked out the right-sized jar just waiting in the cupboard among all those other jars that take up a whole shelf (excuse: I might make jam one day, they’ll come in handy, just you see…), it means you always have some “stuff” left over in the bag. Which means lots of little bags (wrapped in elastic bands or twist-ties if you can find them) waiting to be finished off are taking up even more cupboard space.
I’ve also just inherited a slew of old magazines. I justify keeping them because they’re good for reference, but where do you put them in a small apartment?
Instead of a basement, garage, or entrance closet for that matter, here in Greece we have the patari - a crawl space usually above the bathroom. It actually fits quite a lot, but keepers have a problem. Open at your peril.
Is it possible for keepers to become throwers? My whatsit says if I acquire something, something else has to be thrown. “It’s the replacement principle. You get something good, you throw something crap. This (a trolley with racks of plastic buckets, I guess for vegetables, in my case photo albums) is crap. Where’d you get it? A hospital ward? You’ve got a whole (double, two-shelf) cupboard full of Tupperware, for crissake. They don’t even fit into each other.” Well, we did go on a picnic. So what if I only used two pieces, and the last time we went on a picnic was oh, some weeks ago. “Like, a hundred?”
He says to put the magazines in the filing cabinet. (Yeah right). The bookshelf is also out. What’s the point of having an archive if it’s inaccessible behind a row of books?
My whatsit suggests putting them on a shelf he put up inside a cupboard. I suggest he put up another shelf in the cupboard next to it to put the contents of the first shelf on. (Like me, he doesn’t learn from his mistakes, such as making suggestions when the result is an extra chore for him.)
But that’s not going to happen. Countless women are still waiting for their whatsits to do some manly job around the house. I’ve been waiting six weeks and counting for him to put up hooks in the kitchen. Why don’t I do it myself? You need a drill for one (heavy, awkward), and it’s all very scientific. The drill bit (the thing that makes the hole in the wall), apparently has to exactly match the screw. There’s even a numbered system for this. There are also these plastic doodahs called wall plugs. In Canada my wise father never used them. The screw went straight into the wall, because heaven help you if you put one in the wrong place (like my whatsit did, and probably my father). The thing is, you can’t remove a wall plug because diabolical little “wings” prevent any return trips, but in Greece you have to use them. Don’t ask me why.
Anyway back to throwing. Since we both have keeper tendencies (sentimental, useful one day, etc), we made a pact. If I threw out the rack, he’d chuck every T-shirt of his that I pick out of the pile that’s begun to fray. The offender happened to be his favorite Glastonbury Festival shirt. I swear I insisted he could put it back, but he took both it and the rack to the dumpster, kissed his shirt goodbye and quickly threw it in. The trick is not looking back.
Are you a keeper or a thrower? And if a thrower, are you ever sorry?
Take for instance, jars. Small ones, tall ones, nice, wide-rimmed ones... So convenient for storing “stuff.” The thing is, if you buy “foodstuff” in a bag, it rarely fits perfectly inside the jar selected. Why does volume look so different from one container to another, or am I just spatially challenged? If you haven’t picked out the right-sized jar just waiting in the cupboard among all those other jars that take up a whole shelf (excuse: I might make jam one day, they’ll come in handy, just you see…), it means you always have some “stuff” left over in the bag. Which means lots of little bags (wrapped in elastic bands or twist-ties if you can find them) waiting to be finished off are taking up even more cupboard space.
I’ve also just inherited a slew of old magazines. I justify keeping them because they’re good for reference, but where do you put them in a small apartment?
Instead of a basement, garage, or entrance closet for that matter, here in Greece we have the patari - a crawl space usually above the bathroom. It actually fits quite a lot, but keepers have a problem. Open at your peril.
Is it possible for keepers to become throwers? My whatsit says if I acquire something, something else has to be thrown. “It’s the replacement principle. You get something good, you throw something crap. This (a trolley with racks of plastic buckets, I guess for vegetables, in my case photo albums) is crap. Where’d you get it? A hospital ward? You’ve got a whole (double, two-shelf) cupboard full of Tupperware, for crissake. They don’t even fit into each other.” Well, we did go on a picnic. So what if I only used two pieces, and the last time we went on a picnic was oh, some weeks ago. “Like, a hundred?”
He says to put the magazines in the filing cabinet. (Yeah right). The bookshelf is also out. What’s the point of having an archive if it’s inaccessible behind a row of books?
My whatsit suggests putting them on a shelf he put up inside a cupboard. I suggest he put up another shelf in the cupboard next to it to put the contents of the first shelf on. (Like me, he doesn’t learn from his mistakes, such as making suggestions when the result is an extra chore for him.)
But that’s not going to happen. Countless women are still waiting for their whatsits to do some manly job around the house. I’ve been waiting six weeks and counting for him to put up hooks in the kitchen. Why don’t I do it myself? You need a drill for one (heavy, awkward), and it’s all very scientific. The drill bit (the thing that makes the hole in the wall), apparently has to exactly match the screw. There’s even a numbered system for this. There are also these plastic doodahs called wall plugs. In Canada my wise father never used them. The screw went straight into the wall, because heaven help you if you put one in the wrong place (like my whatsit did, and probably my father). The thing is, you can’t remove a wall plug because diabolical little “wings” prevent any return trips, but in Greece you have to use them. Don’t ask me why.
Anyway back to throwing. Since we both have keeper tendencies (sentimental, useful one day, etc), we made a pact. If I threw out the rack, he’d chuck every T-shirt of his that I pick out of the pile that’s begun to fray. The offender happened to be his favorite Glastonbury Festival shirt. I swear I insisted he could put it back, but he took both it and the rack to the dumpster, kissed his shirt goodbye and quickly threw it in. The trick is not looking back.
posted by bleako at 2:57 AM
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