It’s not the KonMari Method of Downsizing

I’ve done my share of poking fun of the KonMari Method of downsizing but I’m trying to be kinder and gentler when I utter my dislike of things that bug the heck out of me. And that’s all I’m going to say about the petite lady who earned herself eight million dollars teaching people how to ask their possessions if they give them joy and trashing what doesn’t give them an affirmative answer.

My downsizing method is different. I started out by making one dimensional, scale model furniture to move around on a floor plan of the unit where I plan to live one day until I knew what pieces I’ll be able to keep and what I’ll have to say goodbye to. I’m living in a 1,600 square foot house with a full basement and three stall garage and will end up with 1,000 square feet and an underground parking space so a lot has to go. Two pieces I knew right off the batter’s mound wouldn't make the cut: a Hoosier cabinet (photo to the left) and a large four-sided glass showcase, and I took my first steps toward letting them go. For anyone who doesn’t know what a Hoosier cabinet is they were a work center for the kitchens of the 1920s, before built-in cabinets were the mainstay of housing. They all have a pull-out porcelain work surface, a built-in flour bin and sifter, a metal bread box and storage for cookware and dinnerware. They came with glass canister sets and I still have most of the original pieces. 

The Hoosier cabinet has been in my husband’s family since his parents got married. It was the very first piece of furniture they bought and 15-16 years ago we spent $700 to have the Hoosier restored to its original glory. (It had been stored in a barn and then a basement for a lot of decades.) After my husband died I wanted it to stay in his family and I offered it for free to his nephew and niece-in-law who like antiques. They were so excited they started looking online to complete the canister set. But the day they were supposed to pick it up, she called and said they'd changed their minds...blah, blah, blah. She ended her explanation by saying, “I can call around to see if I can find someone to take it” and I had a terrible time not retorting, “If I’m going to give away something I could sell for $400-500, I’ll be the one to decide who to give it to!” 

This week I unloaded the Hoosier---again---so Tim, the-son-I-wish-I-had, could help me move it out to the garage. In the spring I'll list it for sale. As for the pressed glassware I kept inside? Some will go the auction house, some went to Goodwill and what I’m keeping ended up inside an antique ice box since that piece will move with me. (Photo below.) I might downsize those dishes even more when I go through the kitchen cupboards. For now, I’m slowly working my way towards staging the house so the space that opened up where the Hoosier sat now has two bookcases sitting in its place, housing the books that made the cut when I did the Great Library Purging Project. My end game goal is to get one wall of my library exposed….no bookcases, no glass sided showcase and the other wall will be full of four empty bookcases that the realtor says can be left for staging the room as an office. Before that happens, though, I’m turning the library into e-Bay Center for when I start selling again in the spring. All the small stuff I’m selling is being moved to the library and I set up my laptop and postal scale in there. 

Three-fourths of the collectibles in the glass showcase I’ll be e-Baying and other fourth took up a half day of decision making and moving it out. It was sentimental stuff mostly from my childhood but I can’t keep all the sentimental stuff I’d like to. My criteria is I can only keep what I can fit in a small antique dentist tools cabinet that I freed up last summer after e-Baying my husband’s collection of Old West stuff…handcuffs, padlocks, spurs and cast iron Indian and buffalo banks, etc. I suspect before I actually move, the stuff inside my dental cabinet will get tweaked a few times before I’m through downsizing. (Photo below.)

But for now I’m having a lot of fun walking past the dental cabinet every day and seeing where my herd of ivory elephants are going. Half the elephants only have three legs and vibrations are making them ‘dance’ around. In Chinese culture a string of seven elephants represents eternity but I only have six and they are having trouble staying in line so what do you suppose that symbolizes? They are turn-of-the-century and I couldn’t sell them even if they were whole and I wanted to because it’s illegal to sell ivory objects no matter how old they are. And who would want a donated herd of three legged elephants? They got that way having survived a tornado that took the roof and three walls of my husband’s family farmhouse and dumped them in a field. The curio cabinet where the elephants lived at the time was left behind but tipped over, much of its contents smashed. Every object in my dental cabinet has a story and, yes, Marie Kondo, the elephants tell a story that gives me great joy. It's a story of human survival, of loss and rebuilding and treasuring even the imperfect story queues. ©

What pressed glass I kept from the unloaded Hoosier, is in the ice box above.

This is my marble collection which I'm keeping. I didn't downsize it but I did empty a large tray of marbles and added them to a couple of new-to-me fruit jars. I won't have room for the table where I displayed the tray of marbles. I'm still looking for two more fruit jars so I can lighten up these jars and get rid of the two glass balls to the right.

These two bookcases replaced the Hoosier. (Another holds all my art books, CDs, DVDs etc. is in a different room.) One more bookcase will go in my future laundry, and when I move I'll sell the others.

This is the glass showcase after I took out what I'm keeping and put it in the dental cabinet below---lots left to e-Bay. The case itself will get sold next fall, probably to a vendor in an antique mall where Tim knows many of the tenants.

The pie carrier on top of my dental cabinet has a story to tell on another day.

This is a close up of my ivory elephant family with the larger cast iron elephant bank. My sundial watch is in front and my childhood blocks are to the left. My husband and I both had sundial watches that we wore on play dates to Lake Michigan. The doll is wearing a coat made out of the suit my mom got married in. The first bathing suit I had as a toddler is also in this cabinet of stories as well as a Lone Ranger snow globe my dad bought for me.