About a year ago, I wrote about a happy declutter: Frugal Son, back from a year working in France, unsure of the next step, got a job at a bilingual school in New Orleans. He discovered that he loves teaching. He also discovered that he loves New Orleans. The happy declutter: helping him furnish his tiny shared apartment with my--ahem--overstock.
But we had a sad event too. Mr FS's beloved father died, and our share of the neat and sentimental items overstuffed the house again. More than before. Little did we expect...
That, owing to the fact that Frugal Son was paying too much rent and wants to stay in New Orleans, we would be able to help him buy a house. Using part of our share of the house of Mr FS's parents. We wish they could see it.
Yesterday, we moved a lot of overstock to the new house, including many items belonging to his much-loved grandparents. A table that Oompa made. A tapestry that Nana made. I do think that memories inhere in objects and, for this reason, I am stubbornly materialistic.
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