J — Yane ful time getting rid of useless possessions. Everyone that goes out the door takes another load off my mind. It’s a heady experience which I heartily recommend to others. All I do is follow a simple rule to separate the use- ful sheep fromthe encumbering goats. I ask, ‘Has anyone used this object within the last six months?” If it’s “yes” . . . it gets a stay of execution. If it’s “no” . . . out it goes. For instance, my pot cupboard rivaled Fibber McGee’s famous claset. Countless pie and cake pans, lids, scrapple pans, and assorted tinware — were always cascading out. Only a few minutes thought was needed to pick out the utensils I actually used in my everyday cooking. It’s the same story all over the house. If I didn’t go through this weeding process regu- larly we’d be smothered with impedimenta . . old clothes, shoes, wilted accessories, be- draggled souvenirs, and of course, the chil- dren’s hopelessly mutilated playthings. Very few of us can bear to relinquish the dear de- parted at once. Some deep instinct makes us tuck it away, with the vague excuse that it might come in handy some day for something. And a hundred to one, it never does. I often think of the most carefree period in my married life. We moved to another state, taking along only a few essential things. We lived in a three-room, one-story house that was a shelter and nothing more. I never had so few conveniences—and I never enjoyed keeping house so much! There was a fine feel- ing of space and freedom in those bare rooms. Dusting was reduced to a minimum. Win- dow and curtain washing vanished—we had screens and shutters. We had scarcely any- ei. ioe bt Et ’*vE been havi ondek- ( filled up, until I finally realized that our col- caps Vb ‘euul 5 f a { AAALAC YT @ lc) OUL 7 ( f OR Vi _ Ad (\ Sas S ( 2 =. Helen ng aA didn't serve atleast t My husband and I began auctions soon after we we the only way we could our slender shoestring. We used to star amazement at the weird junk that turned up at these sales. “Who on earth would want to buy all that stuff?,” we’d say. But there was always somebody who would bid, and the junk would get a new home. Eventually, our house lection matched what we’d seen at auctions. - Well, now I know! I may not be able to stop the flow of possessions into the house, but I can see to it that nothing stays if it doesn’t earn its keep. I used to wonder why I felt like an overloaded pack-horse all the time. It was simply the weight of all those countless inanimate parasites on my mind. I refuse to be so burdened any more. I don’t have to throw them away, either. Nowadays, especially, almost any- thing can be sold. And there’s al- ways the Salvation Army or some other worthy organization. Yep, I’ve finally worked up the strength to discard useless things the moment they’ve out- lived their usefulness. Tl have no domestic Judgment Day at my house! °