HOT PURSUIT

I’ve officially declared a state of emergency at my house.

The crisis isn’t geopolitical; it’s culinary. My kitchen has spiraled completely out of control, and my peace of mind has gone out the window.

It started innocently a few years back when I wanted to make some subtle upgrades to my aging house of nearly three decades. Even though I had obtained some quotes for a remodel, time slipped away and nothing got done.

That’s until this summer.

I finally decided it was time to switch things up, get a few new appliances and some new countertops.

Then came demo day.

Contractors require empty shelves for obvious reasons. Emptying those cabinets exposed a decades-long accumulation that bordered on absurd.

I found multiple sets of dishes, some readily available and others tucked out of sight. Perhaps most appalling was the collection of drinking glasses. I think I had enough to serve a drink to every resident of Steele County with their own glass.

Add to that an avalanche of mismatched plastic containers with missing lids, enough reusable water bottles to hydrate an army, and canned goods stamped with expiration dates I don't care to admit. The expired items immediately went in the garbage or were dumped in the sink.

I also found some hidden supplies for pets that I no longer have around.

After pulling everything out, it was all laid out in front of me. I was left wondering how on earth I went off track with my kitchenware. How can a person collect so much stuff that they really never use?

With my latest kitchen remodel, I’ve ended up with fewer drawers and smaller cabinets. That adds to the stress level of figuring out where to go with everything in a way that makes the most practical sense. 

My daughter came by and suggested I start dumping immediately. So, now the squeeze is on and I’m in the purging mode. My daughter says if I haven’t used something over the past two years, get rid of it.

I’m finding out that purging the kitchen is a great opportunity to clear out expired goods, unused gadgets and duplicate tools to reclaim my sanity. I’ll also be able to gain some space and improve daily function.

Before it’s all put back together, I may end up with massive amounts of space from the great purge.

My only lingering fear isn’t parting with the clutter—it’s finding myself at the store next week, sheepishly buying back the exact potato masher I just gave away.

Until then, the hot pursuit continues to keep the clutter to a bare minimum.