The Junk Drawer | #MyFridayStory No. 184

The Junk Drawer | #MyFridayStory No. 184

I’m sure every household has a junk drawer.

Our junk drawer was in the kitchen—the second drawer from the top under the eating utensils. Those were neatly arranged in a knife, fork, spoon, and teaspoon compartment in a plastic holder. Other essential—and unknown—tools were stacked around it. The bread knife and dishing up spoons lay lengthwise in front together with the various paring and butcher’s knives. A hollowed-out sharpening stone, can opener, and those little yellow corn-on-the-cob holders all lay loose in the drawer.

My Dad was an aircraft technician and loved tinkering with anything and everything. Our driveway often sported a car with its nose in the air and an open bonnet. My Dad and older Brother could be found flat on their back under the car, covered in grease, tools scattered around, as they fix something. We never parked a car in our garage my entire childhood. It was always full of—dare I say—junk.

Motorcar parts, aircraft parts, tools, rolled up cables, pipes, pieces of angle iron, car rims and tires were haphazardly “packed” everywhere. Making your way from the door to the back of the garage required some planning. You’d have to climb over the old washing machine, walk on the wooden toolbox, and shuffle onto the workbench. AS you land on your feet, you’d be surrounded by shelves full of boxes, buckets, bottles, and containers of all shapes and sizes. These would be full or half-full of nuts, bolts, washers, nails, and other mechanical nick-nacks.

My Dad—hand-on-heart—believed he would need every item again someday.

It was only around DIY that my Dad could be blamed for hoarding. Many times, a piece of “junk” he’d been holding onto for years, was rescued from a dark corner of the garage, still covered in cobwebs. He’d dust it off and give it a clean, bend and shape some part, weld on another, and presto! The “junk” saved the day often enough for the rest of the family to allow the hoarding.

Besides the garage, the only other space my Mom allowed any hoarding, was the kitchen junk drawer. The drawer was often so full, it would open 3 drawers at once, the drawers above and below followed as you tried to open it. All the essential handyman tools for quick DIY jobs could be found. Different sizes and types of screwdrivers, various pliers and spanners, a soldering iron and glue gun, a measuring tape a few rolls of insulation tape, and two hammers.

I’m glad I inherited my Dad’s fixation on having and looking after good quality tools. I’m also glad I learned to live a minimalist life with less clutter. Yet, the number of times I’ve stood with something in my hand that needs the exact part I threw out the previous week, is too many to mention. Were he alive, my Dad would be horrified at what I throw out. We might disagree on what’s reusable and worth keeping, but we agree on the value of having a junk drawer.

My Dad would be proud of my junk drawer. Organised, and tidy with everything laid out in compartments. All the essential equipment a handyman can need. Every time I open our junk drawer, I remember my Dad’s love.

May your life, like your junk drawer, be filled to the brim with love.

Have an awesome weekend and please be generous! 😄

As always, thanks for reading 🙏

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