Ettie Newlands

The KonMari method of organizing everything from your junk drawer to your relationships is, according to some, the secret to a perfect life.

One of the method’s litmus tests is to hold an item in your hand, and if it doesn’t “bring you joy,” you should discard it.

I have a friend who wrote on Facebook that so far, she’s discarded her bra, her checkbook and her scale.

This Japanese method of defining what’s important can get a little ‘out there.’ For example, the thinking is that if your hall is cluttered, it might mean your life’s path is not clearly defined.

Kitchen clutter means you don’t want to nurture your family.

Based on the thought process of this method of decluttering and organizing, I should be under surveillance, monitored 24/7.

But because our home is a little on the ‘’I can make room for one more chotchke/table/wall hanging” side, I suggested to my husband that we try this method of decluttering.

“That’s not clutter, that’s our stuff,” was his response.

I suggested that 53 years of accumulated “stuff” might need a little KonMari-ing, but I was met with the look that said there was no room for discussion here.

Truth is, 20 years ago, our house was pretty funky. Now, I’m afraid the same house just looks like two old people live there.

Actually, if Joanna Gaines and Bozo the Clown had a baby, he’d be very happy in my house. It’s eclectic, but I like to think, classy eclectic.

So, we discussed.

His argument was that every piece of furniture, every knick-knack, every everything, had a memory attached to it.

Mine was that memories worth keeping don’t need stuff to trigger good thoughts.

I suggested he might be a tad bit too sentimental.

He suggested I have a heart of stone, value nothing and was throwing our life to the wolves.

To find a solution, we walked through each room together and talked about where we got what and what it still did or didn’t mean to each of us.

The end result was that I realized he was absolutely right.

So, we bought another chotchke, one of those farmhouse signs that says, “This is us. Our Story. Our Home. Our life.”

Only problem is, I have to find a place to put it among our clutter. Oh wait, I mean among our memories.


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