Oddly enough,I remember what I was going to say next—three or four days ago. I was discussing Kondo’s miscellany category, and I was going to give an example of miscellaneous items that have had their day— or night.

Corsages.

In my day, dances, or balls (at Christmas time), were very popular. By the end of my university career I owned five or six formal gowns, and I wore them, always with a complimentary corsage. I had a big book, a Girls’ Own Annual, that I no longer read, and I used it to save my corsages. I stuck them between the pages and didn’t care that the pages got stuck or mildewed or rotten; the corsages were mementos and they gave me sparks of joy. Until they didn’t. There were so many unidentified, atrophied bits of colourless foliage that I couldn’t tell the difference between a a gardenia or an orchid. They had to go.They are a good example of Kondo’s discards of miscellany.

I know someone, in fact a few people, who save champagne corks, commemorating an anniversary or an achievement—some momentous occasion. Well, they don’t rot like corsages but they cease to have any significance by the time there are 15, 20, 30 in a drawer. I knew someone who used to save all his wine bottle corks; I don’t know what he does with screw tops. I knew two people who saved every yogurt container. I am more practical: I save bookmarks and letter openers.

As I get older, though, and acknowledge the fact, I am finding it easier to toss, especially as i progress through this endless task of gathering my files for the last great severance.

Thanks for the memories.