STUFF

AUBREY & ED

 AUBREY & MAX

BECCA 'S BIRTHDAY  & CONNIE

AUBREY-LISA & MAX

DUTCH LUCHTEL-CONNIE-JEAN LUCHTEL & AUBREY

CARL & JET IN MASON CITY BACKYARD

CONNIE

CONNIE & AUBREY

CONNIE & FRIEND IN SEDONA

MY MOTHER-JEAN LA FOY

MY FATHER-RAY LA FOY

SON RAY LA FOY-CONNIE & AUBREY

STUFF

“Mother I need some string.”

“Well look in the drawer,” she would say.

That was usually her reply whenever you wanted some tape, rubber bands, tacks, screwdriver or whatever.  It was in the “drawer” and always it had “stuff” in it.

I don’t know about your house but when I was growing up we always had a “stuff” drawer or two.  Not really junk but a drawer in the kitchen table that was reserved for all kinds of stuff.  We actually had two of those “stuff” drawers in Mother’s kitchen.  One held most any small item and the other was larger and was reserved for toys, games, cards, paper and pencils.

Early in my life it was always a Sunday morning ritual to go the drawer, take out the small flat can of shoe polish, rag and shoe brush.  I didn’t have to learn how to shine shoes while in the military service because my mother made my army platoon sergeants seem lax.  My shoes had to shine so you could see your reflection in them.

The shoes were black leather with black shoestrings; this was before the days of sneakers and tennis shoes being in fashion.  The shoe strings always seemed to be broken and that meant you put in a knot and tied them anyway or looked in the “stuff” drawer-one might be in there. 

Shoestrings were in short supply in those Depression years and more than one pair of shoes had string used that was dyed.  Some of the shoes had those old half-soles attached but my socks were always darned and no holes.  It was a disgrace to have a hole in your sock.

The “drawer” in the kitchen cabinet was my place to store my current supply of marbles.  I remember once I forgot and left my marble bag outside; I accused my sister of taking my marble bag and she professed innocence.  I felt very foolish when it suddenly dawned on me that it was my mistake.  I can’t remember if I apologized.

Another time I had been fishing.  I had taken my night crawlers with me in a Prince Albert tobacco can and upon coming home put them in the “stuff” drawer.  Several days later we began to detect this terrible odor in the kitchen.  The smell kept getting worse until finally my Dad traced the smell to my night crawlers in the tobacco tin.  It took several days to get that stink out of the house.

In our kitchen we had a table with a white metal top.  It was pushed up against the south wall that had two windows.  This made it a desirable place to sit, eat and look out the windows.  One of the “stuff” drawers was in that table.  There was always a pencil on that kitchen table as we wrote notes to each other on the metal top.

When I think of sitting at that kitchen table I always think of the wind directional arrow that was on our neighbor’s roof to the south. We had a perfect view of the arrow and could look and see what direction the wind was from.  We got more use out of that wind gauge than did the neighbor.

The “stuff” drawer in the kitchen was wide but not very deep. There were some compartment dividers in it and it was a place one went for rubber washers, plumbing supplies, electric plugs, fuses, tape and string.  It was a storehouse of the hardware supplies such as screws, nails, washers, bolts and nuts.  It also had odds and ends like button hooks, corkscrews and bottle openers.  Today much of that junk in the old “stuff” drawer is classified as collectibles.

When I was a child I thought the kitchen was a big, huge room, but as I got older it started to shrink.  Not only the kitchen but the junk drawers changed character.  As a child it was like finding a treasure chest with all that stuff to look at and sort but by the time I got into high school the drawer just seemed to be filled with junk.  After my mother passed away we disposed of her possessions and the house and it was with deep regret that I had to empty those “stuff” drawers.  I know that I took much longer emptying them than tending to anything else in the house.

Each item in those “stuff” drawers had a memory of my father, mother and my sister Jean.   I don’t remember now just what was in those “stuff” drawers but over the years we had put in buttons, notes, pencils, match covers, coins and lots of other items.  I pondered over why we kept this item or that and knew that it was an accumulation of over 35 years of living.  It was a difficult task and I loved and hated every minute of that operation.

The basement and garage also yielded a lot of stuff.  The double garage was and always had been a disaster zone.  There were old tires, rims, chains, shovels, picks and an assortment of nails, bolts and all kinds of iron scraps.  Most of the items in the garage were really “stuff.”  If you put all the items together you would have a good pickup load that was not worth much.  The only reason most of the things were still in the garage was that when my Dad passed away nobody had bothered to clean it up.  It was a good place to store things.   Only one side of the garage was ever used for a car and even then during the depression years our car was drained and put up on blocks for the winter.  We never went out of town in those winters.

The basement was a treasure trove for collectors as it had lots of tools, grindstone wheel, walnut dressers, buckets and glass jars.  The most important box in the basement was an old cigar box that held my Father’s mementos from World War I.  Even as a child I loved to go though that box and ask what each item was and where it came from.  I kept that box and even today love to go through it and identify each and every item.

Everybody should have a “stuff” drawer or two in their home.  Where do you keep your “stuff?”

Several years ago I was up helping our son Randy move to his small cottage he had purchased on White Bear Lake. Being a true LaFoy he had accumulated lots of “stuff”. Anyway as we were grubbing things out and putting them in my truck I made the comment, “You sure have a lot of junk.” Wow! Right then and there he informed me that it was not junk but Stuff. From then on whenever we downsized a cottage or moved from one house to another we always moved “STUFF”.  Age does help and now at 85 I realize the most important things in life are family, friends and health and faith in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. None of these can be purchased or hoarded. So value them and forget the STUFF you can’t take them with you.