We're doing some stuff to the kitchen in Chateau Travolta. I know, we've been doing stuff to it for the past five years, but this time, it's personal. As such, I have over half of the stuff that was in our cupboards sitting in tubs in my office, where I work. This is a little like working in the back storage area of Goodwill. As someone who gets anxious with too much clutter, I've found it's important to not look backwards, much as a mountain climber should not look down.

As I was taking the stuff out of the drawers and cupboards, I was tempted to donate more than half of it. We've been working from about one-fourth of our normal stash of tableware, and except that it's not the cute stuff, I've barely noticed. Beloved and I are of different minds about kitchenware.

I'm a slash-and-burn minimalist about pretty much everything but books. He's a yes-we-do-need-to-keep-eight-Pyrex-bowls type. If I let him have his way, he'd have at least twenty more one-use kitchen appliances than we have. I question the need for even a waffle iron. We have a waffle iron, and also a milkshake maker. (!)

Today I was reading Tanis Miller's ode to Tupperware, and I thought how funny our relationships to our food preparation and storage accouterments are. I fear many of my cupboards, because things have a tendency of falling on my head -- PARTICULARLY TUPPERWARE. And also, occasionally, chocolate chips, because all the baking stuff is stuffed into one tiny upper cupboard. I live in fear of the day the open baking soda box will submit to gravity.

Does one need eight Pyrex bowls? Am I alone in my disdain for 32 drinking glasses?