Closet cleaning

January is the time when I dispose of expired products, expired prescriptions, expired equipment, and expired wardrobe items.

Disposing of expired prescriptions is always tough - since 9/11, no New Yorker likes throwing out anything that could be the least useful/helpful/needful in case of, well, in case. And my doctor friends reassure me that, unlike food, expired prescriptions generally have at least 2 years of full strength left in them before they begin to diminish, and very few prescription medications become toxic with age. Since I don't give medical advice, I'm not saying which. On the other hand, I really don't think 10-year-old Cipro could do anyone much good. Out. That was easy.

On to the kitchen cabinets. We actually do cook in my house, but real estate is real estate. It was with great lightening of heart that I threw out my old crock-pot (slow cooker) last year, and this year the electric skillet is a dead appliance walking. Goodbye as well to tired spatulas, sad potholders, bent whisks.

A pet hate is lettuce washing. The more I believe it to be necessary, the less I like to do it. So the salad spinner stays. The colander stays. My mom's set of mixing bowls stays, even though they can't go in the dishwasher. Broiler pans from two ovens ago -- hmm, I saved them in case of an emergency and now I can't imagine the kind of emergency where I would come to the rescue by producing elderly bent broiler pans. Oh, right, I was going to give them to the neighbors to hold over their heads in case the building fell down. Well, they're on their own. Real estate is real estate. Out.

1 comment:

  1. I have inherited severe obsession with keeping everything "just in case," and "it's not broken." In an apt, at least the space kept this somewhat under control but no longer. MUST be more realistic about what we "need."


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