It’s been a material reckoning here at our new quarters. That triennial event whereby we pack up 95 percent of our possessions and put them in a warehouse/shipping container/boat/warehouse and then some unknown amount of time later they are dumped ingloriously on our living room floor, nay every floor really.  

On the one hand, there is cause for much celebration. Sweater weather is here and this shipment comes just in time.  It’s nice to see our cast iron skillet again. And the wine glasses made it with nary a crack!

Celebrations aside, though, there is also much that makes you ask a lot of questions. Each opened box brings questions like…. 

Where are the ears to this bunny rabbit? 

Or, we’re two people who don’t entertain much, why do we have so many plates? Or wine glasses? 

Or, how long are you going to continue collecting hotel room key cards? Why? 

Or, having been to the spice islands, is it really necessary to have a bottle of peppercorns from each of them? 

Or salt!  We have salt from Whole Foods and salt from Morton’s. But we also have salt from France, Thailand, the Himalayas, both pink and white. We have Himalayan sea salt with a hint of Mexican spice. (really?) We have dead sea salt. We even have Dead Sea salt from the lowest point of the Dead Sea.

Imagine the pretentious wine party we could host, inviting our guests to sample the salt and pepper we’ve collected. Oh my! The tedium!

And a little piece of me dies with each empty Mason jar that I unwrap.  There are dozens and dozens. Seriously, I feel like Scrooge’s Ghost of Christmas Past, thinking about how I’ve schlepped these around the world, lids and all. I’m sure I was part of the conversation nearly a decade ago.  

“We’re going to be deployed to some unknown places. Who knows what produce we’ll find. Whatever it is, we better can it! Ma, go and lay in some more pectin! There’s hard times a-coming!”

It seems like a heavy decision now.  But we can’t get rid of them, because, what if?  And they’re still good!

And so, we unwrap and stow it all on shelves or in drawers. We’ll likely venture to an IKEA looking for a storage solution for a few years until we cycle around and do it all over again. It’s haunting. 

It’s been a material reckoning here at our new quarters. That triennial event whereby we pack up 95 percent of our possessions and put them in a warehouse/shipping container/boat/warehouse and then some unknown amount of time later they are dumped ungloriously on our living room floor, nay every floor really.  

On the one hand, there is cause for much celebration. Sweater weather is here and this shipment comes just in time.  It’s nice to see our cast iron skillet again. And the wine glasses made it with nary a crack!

Celebrations aside, though, there is also much that makes you ask a lot of questions. Each opened box brings questions like…. 

Where are the ears to this bunny rabbit? 

Or, we’re two people who don’t entertain much, why do we have so many plates? Or wine glasses? 

Or, how long are you going to continue collecting hotel room key cards? Why? 

Or, having been to the spice islands, is it really necessary to have a bottle of peppercorns from each of them? 

Or salt!  We have salt from Whole Foods and salt from Morton’s. But we also have salt from France, Thailand, the Himalayas, both pink and white. We have Himalayan sea salt with a hint of Mexican spice. (really?) We have dead sea salt. We even have Dead Sea salt from the lowest point of the Dead Sea.

Imagine the pretentious wine party we could host, inviting our guests to sample the salt and pepper we’ve collected. Oh my! The tedium!

And a little piece of me dies with each empty Mason jar that I unwrap.  There are dozens and dozens. Seriously, I feel like Scrooge’s Ghost of Christmas Past, thinking about how I’ve schlepped these around the world, lids and all. I’m sure I was part of the conversation nearly a decade ago.  

“We’re going to be deployed to some unknown places. Who knows what produce we’ll find. Whatever it is, we better can it! Ma, go and lay in some more pectin! There’s hard times a-coming!”

It seems like a heavy decision now.  But we can’t get rid of them, because, what if?  And they’re still good!

And so, we unwrap and stow it all on shelves or in drawers. We’ll likely venture to an IKEA looking for a storage solution for a few years until we cycle around and do it all over again. It’s haunting.