Every household of my experience has one. No, I’m not talking about a toilet or television (interchangeable at times). What I’m talking about is a ‘junk drawer’.
I defy you to tell me, unless you live in a yurt or tipi that you don’t have one. How can you not have one? Where do you stow your crap if you don’t. By crap I don’t mean ‘big’ crap; that goes in the garage or basement. I mean little items that may or may not be of any intrinsic value to the smooth running of the household.
Junk drawers are ubiquitous. Even those of us who are not hoarders still acquire stuff that is not of huge value but “might come in handy someday”. Stuff that won’t be chucked because of our fear that just when we need it we’ve gone and turfed it out on the premise of: “Why are we keeping that bit of junk?”
This issue has arisen because we are going to be embarking on a major kitchen makeover later this spring. We now have the drawings in our hot little hands and there will be many new cupboards and drawers and it’ll all look great and it damn well should because it’s going to cost a bit.
“But,” I said to Wendy as I perused the renderings, “Which drawer will be designated for junk?”
“I was hoping we wouldn’t have one,” she replied.
“Do you think that’s realistic? At least half of the stuff in the current drawer are items you’ve stowed there.”
She conceded that it wasn’t realistic, but that maybe the new one could be kept neater. I asked again if she thought that stipulation was realistic. And again she bowed to the realities of human nature.
As it is, we haven’t earmarked our new crap drawer but usually such drawers have a way of suggesting themselves.
So, what manner of stuff is in our current one?
We have: a barbecue lighter, some plant tie tape, a tape-measure, assorted keys unidentified, 3 multi-outlet electrical plug-ins, masking tape, electrician’s tape, a piece of venetian blind, random screwdrivers, an X-acto knife, ballpoint pens, felt pens, weed whacker line (2 gauges). Plumbers’ adhesive (tube thereof), something called ‘Tangle foot Paste’, evidently made to keep insects away from fruit trees, a north coast native carving of a Thunderbird, assorted bag clips, and so on and so on.
OK, I’ve let you into my drawers; feel free to let me into yours.