Who Gets the China?

One adage about decluttering is to not shop where you donate. The point is to avoid the temptation to come home with something you didn’t really need. I try my best to heed this advice but sometimes I can’t resist!About 15 minutes away, we have a very lovely, very expansive, retirement community where several of my friends’ parents have downsizes. They have everything from choir to pickleball and multiple restaurants and probably thousands of one and two-bedroom apartments, some with cute patios and mountain views. Honestly, at moments it seems like a great option for now - I’m tired of cooking dinner!The best comparison I can make is to think of it as Denver’s version of The Villages in Florida - but I haven't seen flamingos in front of people’s residences - yet. On Tuesdays at 10 am, they host estate sales for residents who recently, err, “moved out.” They raise funds to support a variety of needs in the community, so you feel good about spending money there, if a little awkward about rifling through someone’s recently-used medicine cabinet.As I am always on the hunt for a good bargain, my friend has turned me onto these sales. Occasionally on a Tuesday when juicy deals are listed in the flyer, we go. For Sale Listings include items like:* Dishware* Adjustable height bed* Walker* Recliner* Curtains* Kitchen Aid Mixer* Lamps* Framed Art* Sewing MachineAs someone who loves to sew but is currently without a working machine,I am on the hunt for an awesome sewing machine deal. One of the European brands like Necchi or Bernina that cost $100s of dollars new but that will last forever.The last time we went there was a line down the hall of about 30-40 people queued up 30 minutes before the apartment door even opened. You feel the excitement build as the opening bell draws nigh.It can be a little stressful to find the best loot as fast as you can before the other early shoppers. But I have learned that some of the door rushers are really there to chat and be nosey, not seriously shop, so no need to panic. The wives speed shop going through clothes, hutches, and medicine cabinets, while the husbands take up valuable shopping space talking about bird watching or pickle ball and write the checks. It’s a very orderly and efficient system they have going. Everything is well marked and the check out process is a breeze.This time I got an amazing full-sized, electronic label maker for $4 and a forehead thermometer for $2! I mean those are deals - who doesn’t need an electronic label maker? And I needed a new thermometer.If you need healthcare durables, these are a great place to pick some up.However, when faced with the Viking sewing machine from 1988 for $75, I couldn’t pull the trigger. I know a tune up costs about $200 and what if the tension was too far gone? Maybe next time. I’ll pack my scraps of fabric to test it out on the spot.I did note the numerous 1980’s and ‘90’s digital cameras on offer for $50 each. My mom loves to tell me how much they could get for their collection of digital cameras on Facebook Marketplace. They are now in great demand by college-aged teenagers and their social media feeds. But seriously, who is going to do the selling of these digital cameras on FBMarketplace is the big question.My mom has no fewer than 4 sewing machines at home. Some work, some don’t, some might. I should really get one of those on the plane home on my next visit. Or drive out there to grab more china and those crystal glasses I have my eye on!So I gave up on the sewing machine but, I totally scored the killer jewelry box featured above! I have been wanting something to go in my closet for jewelry I never wear because it’s in a box in a bag in my sock drawer. I imagine it could look super fab painted in a high-gloss bright blue?When I got home and unloaded the car, I had a minor panic attack. I’m trying to convince my mom to downsize her stuff and here I am adding to mine! Ack! What am I doing? My daughter told me maybe my condition was genetic. I’m pretty sure this is a “nature vs. nurture” debate where nurture comes out on top. I’ll have to work harder to attain the minimal, clutter-free existence I try to espouse.But that might mean avoiding estate sales, and I am not sure I’m ready for that - yet. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com

Recently, I shared Top 10 Tips from experts on how to spend more quality time than productive time when visiting your older parents. (Check it out!) I just got back from a visit to my parents and my husband asked, “Well, how did you do? Did you take your own advice?”Hmmm, I’m going to take a few minutes to reflect on that in this post and share some gems we uncovered. Well, I did better than before. I am pretty pleased with my progress.Did I schedule quality time first? I did! We made a plan to spend a mother-daughter-granddaughter day at nearby hot springs. Sadly, the San Diego rain wouldn’t quit so we had to cancel. But, we did the next best thing - Marshall’s shopping trip and lunch out! California has the best Marshall’s and it’s my mom’s favorite place to hunt for bargains.Did I have a shorter list? I did! We made doctors appointments, sorted out meds, spent several hours on iCloud password resets and computer updates. We also discovered a new beach and spent fun, quality time with extended family.Did we find my Uncle Tommy’s letters from Vietnam? No, but we found lots of other things in the process. Like my dad’s middle school, high school, and college yearbooks. He and his granddaughter spent time sharing fun memories, looking at team photos, and recalling old friends’ (and girlfriends!) names from way back when. That’s even better than reading old letters (back to that topic the next visit).While searching the cabinets, I found several unfilled photo albums that have been kicking around for decades and boxes slides in various states of organization. I tried to convince her to donate 4 of the 8 empty photo albums and put them by the garage door. I am sure they’ll be back in the cabinet after I leave. I tried.Did we get to the will/trust updates? No. But maybe I found someone who can help.Did I plan a shared project? I did! I asked my mom to be part of this Who Gets the China? project and participate in my (forthcoming) podcast and she said yes! We re-loaded Zoom on her new computer and did a test recording. I am excited to see where that leads.Did I save tasks for the last day? Not so much! I did better. My mom dug out a bin of old coins - some from 1899 and some from random countries. She and my daughter had a grand time polishing them and researching them online. Is a tarnished British coin from 1899 worth anything? Not much more than a moment of polishing joy- and that is just fine by me.All in all, I am pleased with my progress so far!Thanks for reading Who Gets the China? ! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and be a part of this supportive community. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com

This weekend I was on a girls weekend and saw a friend I don’t get to see very often. For the last year or so she has been overwhelmed caring for aging parents; dealing with their housing challenges; mourning the loss of a parent; and moving another parent into assisted living.One of the first things my friend lamented was the complete overwhelm of trying to sift through family memories - namely, old photos and videos. You want to be able to sort through them and share them and learn who’s ancient looking aunt is related to whom but there’s no time for that when you’re in crisis mode.“Take time now,” she said, “when you have the time, to go through the photos and upload them. Make notes on who’s who while you can.” It can change on a dime and that window shuts.Listen to how this motivated me and maybe it will motivate you to get started on this journey. Please follow and share your successes, challenges, do’s, and don’ts for digitizing your family’s photo archive. I am at the beginning of this journey and I need all the help I can get.Thanks for listening and reading! Please follow, comment or share it so we can build a fun and helpful community together.I want to acknowledge that I listened to the “10 Things to Tell You” podcast and she hosted Miss Freddy, a photo archivist extraordinaire based in Colorado who shared some amazing tips on how to start the journey of digitizing your photos and videos. I am so grateful for their indirect encouragement and expertise that helped empower me to start this process. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com

Growing up in the 70’s we were part of a “glass animal craze.” Or maybe it was just us. I have no idea, but we amassed quite a collection. We had these cute gift stores in town like D.W. Curry’s and you could peruse the hundreds of “porcelain” animals - swans on a lake, kittens with a spilled milk bucket, dolphins, horses, you name it. I suppose these were affordable ways to spend a 10 year-old’s allowance or maybe we just liked to admire them on a curio shelf in our bedroom.I mean, they are cute. We got figurines as keepsakes from trips to Disney or beach vacations. Recently I gifted a friend a really pretty colorful glass rooster. (She asked, I did not foist!) Some are even from my mom’s childhood - a set of 3 grey, fluffy-looking-but-made-of-porcelain dogs, attached by a little chain. We got them as gifts and gave them as gifts and eventually amassed quite a collection.This brings me to a short, awkward tween sidebar: I have one awkward memory of this glass animal phase. I attended a birthday party for a new girl in school. I was probably 10 or 11. I didn’t know this new friend so I had no idea what she was into. Glass animals had previously been a safe, sweet “girlie” gift. Against my better judgement, I got her some miniature kittens along with something else I can’t recall now. In fact, I completely missed the gift-giving transition-glass animals were now passé and way too young. The other gifts were “bigger girl,” tween-like gifts, like necklaces, earrings or lip gloss and I was stuck handing over a little-girl gift. I was mortified but the party went on and probably no one gave it a third thought, but I still recall my embarrassment at not realizing that phase had come and gone and I was left behind.Even today, forty years on, we have probably 100 of these little creatures still keeping us company. Sadly, no one wants to admire them anymore, let alone dust them or move them out of the way to dust the dresser. My daughters selected several from our collection growing up but they no longer have a desire for them either. So the cuties wait, in storage, for their day in the sun to arrive.I was searching for the glass animals one day. As I was digging through plastic bins in the (two-twin-bed) guest room, I came across two old-style Bolla wooden wine gift boxes. We likely received these filled with wine gifts from my dad’s work associates in the 80's and they have provided storage services ever since. I mean, they are nice boxes! “Glass Animals” is written boldly across the top. “Ooh!” I thought. “Yay! Let’s take a look inside,” obviously thinking I’d find glass animals. Watch my short video for a real-time reveal!Inside the wine storage crates were several styrofoam egg cartons labeled “Kirsten’s glass animals” and “Kari’s glass animals.” Judging from my sister’s penmanship, these are decades old.When I opened said egg cartons, they were empty. This was crushing. Where were they? However, in an advanced organization strategy, each egg indentation was numbered. Presumably there was once a key that told you which porcelain dog and which glass cat went in which spot. I am not sure why this mattered but it must have.So, if the boxes and the labelled egg cartons are empty, where have all the little animals gone?Thankfully, I found most of the animals in a different plastic bin nestled in their wooden hanging display cases.So, what to do with all of these little treasures now that I’ve found them?They are sentimental so we certainly don’t want to throw them out, or give them to the Goodwill, heaven forbid. I mean, one of them could be worth something! We don’t know any little girls that might want them.Recently, my mom and I visited a miniatures store in San Diego - we loved dollhouses and miniatures growing up. It was a fun memory lane trip and low and behold, these folks will sell your glass animals at their miniature shows. You’d probably be lucky to get a few dollars for them, but at least they’d go to a place where they’d be appreciated. Visiting the miniatures store together or listening to my mom tell me which ones were hers as a girl give meaning to these little guys. Again we are stymied by the “what are they worth” question. In dollars? Really nothing. Are they even worth the mental or physical space they occupy? At what point do we send them off to the next phase of their journey to bring a little joy to someone else and a little mental space to us?I confess: I took a few porcelain puppies home and they sit on my dresser, smiling up at me with love. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com

When we lived in Connecticut, the china and crystal lived in special glass-fronted corner cabinets in our dining room. They were visible and accessible, but clearly meant only for special occasions. We probably used them to toast my engagement and on Christmas Eve and Thanksgiving. They made the move along with my parents to California 28 years ago and I’m not sure we’ve used them since. So this year I decided to break them out.In order to get to the fancy crystal champagne glasses out for Christmas Eve, I had to dig deep. I mean really deep.I had to dig deep. In the dining room hutch, there were 8 heavy duty boxes tightly closed up with packing tape and labelled (bless my organized mother) “wine”, “champagne”, “shots?”, and “demitasse” - I’m still not sure what that means exactly but I think it’s espresso?Of course, I am doing this Christmas Eve around 4 pm as we are also trying to get to church for the 5:30 children’s service.Inside the box labelled “champagne” there are, as promised, 8 (I had always thought they were Waterford but actually turned out to be Tiffany’s - why this matters in a minute) champagne coupe glasses individually bubble wrapped and aggressively taped up. They had to make it across the country, after all. I opened them and polished them (no time to wash but they looked clean enough after all the years in storage!). When we got home from church we toasted Christmas Eve together. It was a lovely and festive evening with my parents, husband, and daughters. Maybe there were a few extra pours, but what the heck? We were enjoying the fancy crystal. At some point during the evening, my dad says to my mom “remember what happened with our wedding glasses the night of that party?” My mom apparently has no recollection. He shares a story I now know I’ve heard before. Early in their marriage at one of their Upper East Side dinner parties, after carefully hand washing the champagne glasses they were sitting, drying on a towel on the counter. Someone - we’ll never know who - reached into the cabinet above to get down a heavy serving dish (dramatic pause), and yes, it dropped onto the drying glasses sending Waterford cut crystal shards all over the kitchen. I am sure this caused significant expense and heartbreak and probably some choice words. (Come to think of it, perhaps this is why they don’t get used that often.)New crystal - Tiffany’s this time - was eventually purchased and we were never the wiser. They are sparkly, delicate and beautiful and it’s fun to have something to make certain dinners special. At any point in life, shouldn’t we be using and enjoying our special things all the time? I mean, why not?But this story hits home with me right now for different reasons. What if we hadn't opened these boxes and used the glasses with my parents this year? Maybe they would have stayed packed up for another five years. Maybe we wouldn’t have heard the history and anecdotes that bring these items to life and tell the stories of a life associated with them. For many of us, well, at least for me, it’s not the dollar value but the stories and the connection to the past that make these items meaningful. It’s encouragement to continue the “decluttering journey” in a way that’s a little bit fun and brings stories to life. Because without the stories, they are just glasses. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com

Welcome to Who Gets the China? Essays and insights on navigating life with aging parentsAre your parents aging? Same. Are you thankful? Yes! Is managing this transition driving you a little bit crazy? Me too. I hear you.I love my parents and am so thankful to have them as active participants in my life, even at 55. But helping them live longer and independently can make you laugh, cry and want to pull your hair out. Virtually every friend I have is experiencing some element of this while also launching their kids into adulthood. Several of my group chats regularly blow up with the latest parental escapade, frustration, or challenge.The Power of CommunityI believe there is power in sharing these experiences, learning from one another to guide us through this transition with a bit more grace and our sanity in tact.My generation read all the baby and child rearing books we could get our hands on when we were expecting our first baby. We baby-proofed (thank goodness because kids love electrical sockets), made birth plans (what a waste of mental energy), hired lactation consultants (a godsend) and whipped up our own organic baby food in the name of raising our kids as best we could.We’re willing and wired to apply that same commitment to helping our parents live as well as they can, as long as they can. I haven’t found an online source that speaks to me authentically about this experience. My parents don’t look or sound like the standard white haired stock photos I see in so many ads or articles. They are paving their own way, and therefore so are we.The goal of this endeavor is to create a resource to help us laugh, cry and embrace the messiness of this phase but also help us make good decisions during unprecedented times.Why “Who Gets the China?”If you are lucky, your parents are living in their own home and you have a loving family and siblings to help you through this journey.In reality, you are facing a move to a “retirement community” aka “assisted living facility” and have a week or two of vacation time to sort through the china cabinet full of “family heirlooms” nobody really has space for or time to polish.Even if you have the luxury of time, you still have to go through it all and divvy it up or send it to GoodWill or try to sell half of it on Facebook Marketplace. There might be yellow sticky notes stuck on Christmas tchotchkes, subversive assignments of silverware to not-quite relatives; blank looks about who has to take, I mean gets to take, Nanny’s bright pink and green crocheted quilts from the 1950s; and fights over who gets the floral wedding china.For me, this phase of life is alternately heartbreaking and hysterically funny. “Who gets the china?” sums up so much about this time of life. If we can’t laugh, we’ll go crazy. (But seriously, dibs on the china. I’m the oldest.)Thanks for reading my Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Visit my website at www.whogetsthechina.com This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com

There are hundreds of things in your parents’ home you may have never noticed before. Things in the garage, storage closets, even the laundry room that once seemed totally benign and reasonable.Then one day, you see it in use and it strikes the fear of immediate and significant injury in you. I call this “The Wooden Ladder Episode.”One day after I probably read an aging-in-place article, I saw my parents’ garage with new eyes. Had it always been this dangerously dark, even during the daytime? Was it always a minefield of tripping hazards or toxic chemicals, like leaking turpentine jugs? With the laundry out there (it’s California) one spends more time in the garage than you might think. At some point during the pandemic we installed a gaudily bright overhead task light from Amazon above the laundry, but now I realized getting into the car or the back up pantry was a visibility issue. For those of us with cataracts and glaucoma, it was even worse.Thanks for reading Kirsten’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.I set about investigating how we could fix this lighting situation. I discovered the garage door opener bulb- the only other light source in a 3 car garage - was burnt out. This, at least, I could fix! Go me!I dug through the bulb box to find a meager 60 watt bulb and went to get the ladder.Oh My Goodness - this wooden ladder! Death-trap would be a better word. The ladder is an old, rickety, 12 foot tall thing made out of wood. It is barely stable when folded up. The little metal chain rattles as you open it up and then with your first step you feel the desperate need to grab onto something solid and stable. Where did this thing even come from? Do they even make wooden ladders anymore? I’ve done lots of DIY and spent plenty of time at Home Depot. THe ladders they sell are all aluminum or something more stable and substantial.Does my dear 90-year-old dad actually get on this thing? I pray not.After installing the new bulb that at least cast a soft glow over the cars, I expressed my concern about said ladder. My parents sort of look at me like a histrionic new mom. They apparently see nothing wrong here. I am having visions of a 9-1-1 call from the garage floor if one of them ever wants to use it.I begged both of them to stay off this thing. If they need a task done that requires a ladder, wait until my next visit or find a handyman. Ideally, let’s get this thing out of the house and remove the temptation. Of course, that has not happened as of 2 years later, and it still needs to be moved around the garage to access cabinets, tools, and boxes.But there has been acknowledgement that it is not the safest thing in the world and perhaps we can let it go or find it a new home. My mom wonders if maybe the handyman (who brings his own safe, metal ladders) would like it. Pretty sure he likes his body in working order and would politely decline.On a visit to Home Depot recently my dad and I joked at the sight of 200 sturdy, METAL ladders out front waiting to find homes. He told me to “move along!” I don’t even browse them because at this point, I don’t really want my parents on ANY ladder.One of these days I’ll post it for free on Facebook BuyNothing or Craig’s List. Maybe it could become an antique plant holder for someone. Or eventually I’ll find a way to secretly get this darn, dangerous thing to the dump before my mom notices and drags it out of the trunk.What danger zones have you uncovered? How did you convince your parents to let it go or are you still living with the anxiety knowing it could wreak havoc at any point?Please share! I’d love to hear your experiences with eliminating dangerous “clutter”!Thanks for reading Kirsten’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit whogetsthechina.substack.com