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Shit-To-Dust. That’s what I like to call the annoying knick-knacks, trinkets, chotchkies, and crap most people have littering their lives. I won’t have them and it has taken years to train family and friends not give them to me.

My house is sparse. I have furniture. I have color on the walls. I have books. That’s basically everything. Every once in a Blue Moon, I pull out candles to light, but they are put away the next day. I am constantly putting Sailor Man’s stuff away. In a box, in the closet, in the trash, it’s outta here, donwanna see it.

I’m facinated when I go to other people’s homes and see their array of stuff and wonder wherever did that come from? But most of the time, that is burried in a hurricane of this and that as well, so it becomes lost in the mix.

I think the main purveyors of chotchkies: dollar stores, craft shops and these annoying “Christmas Tree” shops, are evil and must be destroyed. They serve only to litter the landscape and clutter the mind.

This household practice also applies to my person. I don’t wear jewelry, I can’t accessorize worth a damn, and I rarely wear my wedding ring except on special occasions. Jewelry has to be separately cleaned and maintained, it’s too much effort. I have opted instead for tattoos up and down the arms and everywhere else that can be cleaned conveniently in the shower.

Maybe it’s not the chotchkies I have a problem with. Maybe it’s the dusting.

Nope, it’s the chotchkies.

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