“My daughter won’t let me throw out anything from the fifties” someone piped up from inside the toilet stall.
Alix agreed that good stuff is often wasted, and that maybe she could ‘help out’ by taking some of Miss DeClutter’s junk. “I know my daughter will just srow it avay later anyvay” she laughed. (She’s an artist, and her German accent makes everything she says more interesting.)
I asked how in the world anyone can decide what has “no value” and must be pitched.
Exhibit A: a cute little cardboard box probably from the 1950’s…Bell telephone must have had their own pin-supply store. How else can you explain the beautiful die-cut, curved side-flaps, the triple-thick card stock, the undeniable sturdiness of the thing, tossed into a dumpster when the phone company site was declared a superfund toxic waste zone?
Well, I don’t plan on eating the pins, just holding my swimsuit together with them or something.
I know I have a little problem, and no daughter to help with the throwing out….