Want to know why this photo makes me happy?
These things do not belong in there.
And yet . . . they fit.
Life happened and we needed new floors. Getting new floors meant moving my china cabinet. Moving my china cabinet meant getting my china out of it.
Last summer, I was leaving the country at the time when the first floors were going to be installed, so I wasn’t going to be there to supervise china-cabinet-moving. I probably wouldn’t have risked moving it with the china inside anyway, but I definitely wasn’t going to risk other people moving it without my supervision.
I combined my everyday dishes into two mismatched stacks, and moved my fancy stuff into those safe, unmovable cabinets.
And that was it.
I didn’t have to box anything up.
And when that room ended up being the last one to be re-floored in a long drawwwwnnnn out process, we were just fine with the temporary situation.
All that doesn’t make a very exciting story. BUT, if you know where I was years ago, you know why I was so excited.
I once had cabinets stuffed full of everyday dishes. And counters piled with dirty dishes. At the same time.
And if, back then, I was in this same situation (if . . . since I would avoid this floor-replacing situation), I would not have had a place for my fancy stuff.
I would have moved the plates and cups and gravy boats around or stacked them on the counter and thought mean thoughts about the dishes and myself every time I had to move them. Or I would have had to shove them somewhere where one or three or seven would likely have broken.
So I celebrated. In my heart, and now in the presence of the Internet.
Having room to do what I needed to do when I needed to do it in a way that kept everything safe and everyone sane was a very big deal.
For reference, here’s a photo of all the stuff I moved out of the china cabinet and placed in my kitchen cabinets.
I’m proud of me and jazzed about all the decluttering I’ve done and how it makes life easier.
Go me.
