What can we do with all our stuff?

Last week I wrote about our garages filled with "glotch." Several readers responded to let me know that they identified with that situation. I'm thinking maybe I should elaborate a bit about "glotch." I looked in the dictionary and couldn't find that word "glotch." I guess it is a word that hasn't caught on yet. It is probably like the old word "ain't." We used to say that "ain't" ain't a word, but we use it anyway, because it says what we want to say. So, "glotch" ain't a word either, but you kind of get the idea when you see it or hear it. Actually I picked up that word "glotch" from a book called HOME WORKSHOP DIGEST, by Dean Grennell, back in the 1980s. Over time, little by little, workbenches collect tools left from previous projects, small scraps of wood, wood screws, rolls of tape, a bottle of glue, old gloves, wipe cloths, cans of paint or varnish -- "glotch," as Grennell termed his collective mish mash of this and that.

We used to have a workbench like that in the basement of our farmhouse. Usually the workbench in the farm shop could be kept reasonably clear, so one could use the vice, and space was available to assemble small parts, and so on. But Dad's fine workbench in the basement of the house was always covered with stuff. It held stuff to work with, like cans of paint and varnish, cans of nails and screws, screwdrivers, hammers and hack saws. But it also was always covered up with old appliances that might be repaired someday, old record players that didn't work quite right but were probably still "good" and unfinished hobby projects that we were going to finish someday.

Many people who lived through the Great Depression and droughts of the 1930s learned to be "savin'," as they would put it. You didn't have money to buy new stuff, so you made things last, you repaired what was salvageable, you made do, modifying old things to serve new uses. You didn't throw things away. It was considered morally wrong to be wasteful, and very foolish to be extravagant. My generation didn't grow up during the Depression, but during the years when it was lifting, the 1940s and 1950s. We were influenced in two directions at once: first, we absorbed some of the older habits and ways that helped our parents and grandparents survive the Depression. We learned to be "savin'." But we also began to acquire more stuff, especially more "new" stuff. And, we began to "need" things that hadn't been thought of as needs back in the 1930s. We began to "need" a telephone. We came to "need" a TV as well as a nice radio. We started "needing" hot and cold running water in our houses, and, of course, indoor bathrooms. And, we started needing more little storage buildings behind the house, where we could put stuff we didn't need in the house any more.

Especially when a person has multiple interests, he tends to accumulate stuff. I have always accumulated books, magazines and newspaper clippings. The challenge becomes how to find the one you need when you need it. I used to accumulate lawnmower parts, automobile parts, stashes of lumber and stashes of leftover pieces of wood from old projects. I accumulated parts for old pianos I was restoring, and experimental pieces shaped up in trying to make a fiddle. Then there was my Dad's old rocker and other pieces of furniture that I intended to repair and refinish some day.

Some years ago, I formed the not-quite-serious idea that a man really needs two houses, one house to live in, and one house to store his stuff in. But the man who is wealthy in terms of having lots of stuff stored in the attic or shed or shop, still faces an old problem; that being how to find what he needs when he needs it. Say I discover I need to replace a part on the lawnmower. I know I have the part stashed away, somewhere, but where? I am very likely to go to the parts store and buy a new piece, rather than spending time looking for the one I have around here somewhere.

One of the solutions is to get organized. The ideal for storing stuff is to set a place for everything and to keep everything in its place. So, we start fixing shelves and drawers and hangers and putting things in their places. Of course there are always interruptions. We have to go take care of some necessaries. Two weeks later, we come back to organizing. But now, the old plan doesn't make sense any more, or we can't remember parts of it. And, we find ourselves not only needing to reorganize our stuff, we need to reorganize our schedules, we need to plan our use of time better, we need to become more efficient in our tasks hour by hour.

Getting organized is quite a challenge, even when we know that being better organized would be freeing to us and very helpful. Years ago, in the Farm Journal magazine, I remember a farmer's determined steps for to getting organized. Step One: Get organized. Step Two: Talk to wife. Step Three: Get reorganized. Step Four: Talk to wife again. Step Five: Forget whole thing! Ok! No, we can't give up. We do need to get organized, and from time to time to get reorganized. And it's probably best to keep talking to our wives, no matter what!

•••

Editor's note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is an award-winning columnist, a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history. He is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society. He can be contacted by e-mail at [email protected], or call 621-1621.

Community on 03/12/2014