Cupboard Love

 March 1, 2026

At last February is behind us and, as I write this, the sun is streaming in my office window and a pale blue sky is stretched overhead. But. The temperature is some distance into the freezing zone, there is a sharp wind whipping through the tree branches and I am enjoying my March day by trying out different ‘come in like’ descriptions.

Not a lion, this day. Certainly not a lamb. A hawk? Wrong colour values. The ground is still deep in shining snow and ice. Yesterday, as we sat at our kitchen table and watched the bird feeders, all the small birds and squirrels suddenly disappeared. To our great pleasure first one and then a second huge owl landed, one in the apple tree and one on a maple beside it. They were absolutely beautiful, graceful, commanding. It was a perfect moment. They did not stay long, as lunch was not making itself seen.

So, March came in like a barred owl. I guess. I have just spent some time looking up information on the barred owl and photos. This one is pretty close to what we saw as the birds came in.

The problem with sunshine flooding a window is that it emphasizes how dirty the window has become. And how dirty they will stay until the weather warms up enough to open them up for cleaning. Our windows are ‘casement’, chosen because they crank open and are, therefore, supposedly easy to clean. This may be true if you happen to have long, thin arms that can manage the aperture to reach to clean the outside. The windows we chose are standard, and the ‘pin’ on which they swivel to open is quite close to one side. I have hired a worker to take on a lot of the jobs I can no longer manage, but I confess I did not check her biceps. Mine scraped.

When I had muscle. This last while I have pushed myself into trying to ‘downsize’ a little, both to make things simpler for me and to make things easier for the daughters/executors. We live in our ‘forever’ house and while we designed it for mature adult living (two bedrooms with a bathroom each), it is still a big house and full of stuff. The outbuildings are HIS responsibility and I am not even thinking about them. But the cabinets and drawers that hold things I use also hold a large number of things that I used to use, or thought I might use, or was given, or inherited.

One of these infestations is my grandmother’s ‘good’ china. My father’s mother probably received it as a wedding gift and it descended from her to my aunt, her daughter, and thence to me, the sole grandchild. It is beautiful. As you see. I have cherished this set, feeling it as a link to a grandmother who, because she died when I was only three, I only know through her things. Sadly, the dishes are not really useful. They have gold rims and, accordingly, must be handwashed and they are a smaller size than we need for celebratory dinners. My grandchild does not want them.

As of Thursday the set is counted, labelled and boxed, ready to go to a resale location that my daughter knows of.

I have also made a start on my closet with things I don’t need or can’t fit into. And, horrible job that it is, the storage room in the basement.

Along with Grandma Holden’s china went a lot of fragile bits and pieces. And some less fragile. I have a small stack of silver plate to clean and add. Last week, in the first stage of the storage room clean, I dispensed with a crystal punch bowl that we got as a wedding present and that I have never used, except occasionally as a display receptacle in the dining room. I have always disliked it. But, wait for this, when my family (well, two members of it) found out it was gone, they were very sad. The offspring would, I think, have taken it.

You know, you can play the game for a long time and not, not even close, ever win.