by Katia Ceccarelli
It’s amazing how our homes become repositories for useless stuff over time.
Those black glass goblets I bought back when I was at the university which seemed so gothic chic to me, that ethnic bedspread that has never kept warm but has always been an exceptional dust attractor, the beer mugs from Prague.
Let’s get rid of all those odds and ends, we must clear the clutter from our homes and let it some fresh air.Â I need living space.
I take everything to the charity shop. Ah yes, even those ancient pieces of the linen trousseau, no idea why my mum gave them to me, who do you think uses linen towels nowadays?
There’s always a whole lot of people at thrift shops, parking is even hard to find, who would have thought that was possible?
– What are you bringing us this time, my dear?
– A few outdated things I no longer use, I hope I’ll get a good price.
Oho, something has just fallen out from the stack of linen towels: a note.
“My dear Adele, we bought the best, every time you use them it will be as if I am caressing you. Your mum, Eufrasia”.
Eufrasia: my great-grandmother.Â I met her when I was a little child and I barelyÂ have any memory ofÂ her, a little old lady with white hair. She died when I was at the primary school and Adele, my grandmother, passed away too.
– For those I can give you 10 euros per pair, how about that?
– No, thanks! I have changed my mind, I keep them.