LifePundit

What to Do About Too Many Framed Photos

If you don't have this problem right now, you will someday, so listen carefully. One day you'll think you've finally got your mess/house under control. The next day, an aging relative will downsize (or worse), and you'll inherit all their excess stuff.

Or, if you're me, your aunt will die and your parents and your in-laws will decide to downsize. That's three households worth of stuff.

Some of it will be better than your stuff, so that will be welcome. Some of it is worth money, even if you don't like it, so that's a dilemma. (The nice thing to do is to give it to a sibling or relative who actually does like it. Forget the money, if you can.) Some of it I can't tell you what to do with, because it's sitting in corners and under beds in my house, waiting for Somebody with Wisdom, who is not me. Perhaps Lily will get to deal with it some day.

When my father inherited his mother's stuff, he did what was perfectly rational for him. He built a warehouse on some property he had and put everything in it. How's that for not dealing with the problem? (He was a contractor.) For a while it was like having a store for all the kids and grandkids who were getting their first apartments. You go pick out your furniture. When you move on or up, you return it for the next one. Most of the stuff is still out there, though. Including a wardrobe containing all of my grandfather's suits and the ribbons from his funeral flowers. (He died before I was born.) I guess one day we'll get to deal with the funeral ribbons, etc.

In the meantime, I've got a problem with framed photos, many of me. I'm sure nobody around here needs to look at me in all my glorious stages of development on every wall. I have duplicates, too, from both grandmothers, my aunt and my mother in some cases. It's humbling to know that those sweet ladies framed my photos and apparently displayed them for their pleasure.

These things carry emotional weight. And take up valuable real estate. What to do?

A friend, whose husband is a fabulous portrait painter, came to my rescue. You take the photos out of the frames, put them in a scrapbook, and then either re-use, donate or toss the frame.

So that's what I did last night. The duplicates are in the trash. The photos are in an album. The frames are dealt with. I've been set free!

Letting Go

We have so very much valuable stuff. Vintage Barbies. Great LPs. Antique China dolls. A Bowflex. Serving dishes for people who entertain a lot (not us).

We have so very much valuable stuff that we must like it better than us, because we allow it to take up valuable real estate. Thanks to my neighbor, we are letting it go.

Paul's parents downsized, and we got a lot of stuff from them. My parents moved out of their home of 50+ years into a retirement community, and I'm still trying to figure out what to do with the Depression glass and letters from my grandmother. (My mother even saved my baby teeth, which I have managed to lose.) And my aunt died, leaving us even more stuff.

The people are precious. The memories we have of these people are priceless. I need to let go of their stuff, though.  All you have to do is add a few more letters to "stuff" and you come up with "suffocate."

Saturday we're having a yard sale with our neighbor. I'm running around the house sticking Dollar Store price stickers on things. I know I could sell it for more on e-bay. Apparently, I'm never going to do that.

I have sold some amazing things on e-bay. My Barbie boat is now in Finland. A broken casserole dish is now in New Mexico (I said it was broken in all caps in the headline -- it did look nice and is a good pattern.) I sold an old army jacket to somebody in the Netherlands. He mailed me cash. I sold my aunt's lace trimmed slip to a Princeton student, and somebody's pantaloons to an antique shop. Selling stuff on e-bay can be lots of fun. I'm just not up to it.

I want this stuff out of here. Now!

The pre-printed stickers are a hoot. For instance, if I really want to ask $5 for something, but I'll have to walk in the other room to get a new sheet of stickers, I'll just put a $1 sticker on it. (Wonder if I'll even get that much?)

With every sticker I put on, regardless of the amount, I feel liberated. I'm buying back my serenity and peace of mind -- even if the stuff ends up at Goodwill.

Paul is great at yard sales. He will do anything to make a sale. (Short of lying, I hope.) He views it as a sport. Nobody leaves without buying something, even if that means they get my antique pitcher for a quarter.

That's more than it's worth to me.

What to do about old LPs?

Do not buy an Ion USB turntable.

We are covered over in junk. I try to do FlyLady, but mainly I read other people's success stories and think I'll start tomorrow.

But we are big on repainting and decorating rooms, and there's a space that is crying for attention: I don't even know what to call this room. It's on the second floor and it's a big open space. It's got a built-in desk, two dormers and lots of junk in it. (I might put up a picture of before and after, though not unless there is actually an after....)

We're having a garage sale with a neighbor in two weeks where we'll quickly unload the Bowflex (one way or the other) and some other stuff. But what to do about three big boxes of very precious LPs? (Yes, vinyl records.)

We bought an Ion USB Turntable. Lest you think this is a paid ad, it is not. It is an unpaid very unsatisfied customer rant. We waited for five months for this thing to come in, and it is a piece of junk. Though they say in the ad that you get a 100 percent money back guarantee, that has proved to be untrue. The turntable "wows," and no amount of adjustment seems to fix it. The sound quality is terrible. We have contacted the manufacturer three times and each time received a form letter about how to set up the turntable and where to go on the Internet for new software. No amount of software will fix the wowing. Our correspondence with the company included the words "replace or send money back." Neither has happened. So much for their guarantee. They are unresponsive and deserve very bad press.

So, I guess we are selling this piece of junk Ion USB turntable at the yard sale. If we get $5, it will be more than it is worth. To say I'm mad and disgusted is an understatement.

Now what to do with the LPs? There are a few that I can't find in CD form and would love to record them. Still, we have three huge boxes of them and memories. I know someone who will convert them to CDs for $10, but we have way too many for that. What would you do?

I want to toss them all. Paul believes they are valuable. They have anti-value at this point for me, because they (and the stupid ION USB Turntable) take up space I could use just for -- open, peaceful, serene, quiet space....