When we moved to the suburbs twenty two years ago, each of the 175 homes in the development came with a gleaming white refrigerator. Since then, almost all our neighbors have replaced their fridges at least once, and often twice or more, with new models – except us.

        Ours is the only original model left. We never thought of discarding our refrigerator, falling for gimmicks such as the “latest functional miracle” or available in “decorator colors of fuchsia, fawn or beige,” that sort of nonsense.  Ours is the only original model in the area and all it does is keep food fresh. We put a couple of bucks into it every few years for a small repair job, but aside from an occasional wheezing sound, its  doing its job okay.

            We are so willing to discard things too soon. And the result? Clutter.  And then, for some people the best method to get rid of unwanted stuff lying around in the house is to throw them out.

Looking at some of the furniture being thrown out, I could weep.  Mike, our local upholster asked me one day, “Do you know how many families get tired of a couch or chair after only, three, four years?” I did not bother to guess, but he gave me some advice that I’ve followed it ever since. “Okay, so you want a change? Save some money and get it re-upholstered. A good workman can even do some re-designing.”

“Make or do without” – that’s my attitude regarding discarding the old and buying new staff.  This philosophy has helped me to lead a clutter-free life. And, most importantly, save a lot of money.

This prudent attitude has a lot to do with my upbringing. I grew up as one of six kids in a small town and still remember my mother darning holes in our socks and making them “wearable” once again. She took our worn out shoes to the shoe repair guy. A new sole and a coat of polish transformed them and of course extended its life.  Just imagine how much she have saved!

For some people, buying new items is the easy way out.  The wrist watch is forever committed to a dresser drawer instead of salvaged.  The handle on a rake or hoe cracks; the weekend gardener buys a new one, when half-hour’s labor, maybe an old broomstick, could restore the wounded object. A saw is good for many years; for a few bucks you can get it re-sharpened.

I think the maddening rush to “get a new one” as soon as the old one is tiresome or a bit tarnished, comes from the belief that replacement will bring fulfillment. But I believe that when people lose the old-fashioned skill of fixing things, when we replace rather than repair, then a temporary high takes the place of maturity and real fulfillment. And what’s worse, it creates clutter.