<sigh> We have a room (I call it the parlor, because it looks like an old-fashioned parlor in terms of decorations; "sitting room" might also be appropriate, except no one EVER sits in there, except for one party fifteen years ago when the guests took over and set themselves up in there, no one realizing that the couches and chairs were horribly uncomfortable but no one caring after several glasses of wine) with lovely antique furniture that NO ONE WILL EVER WANT. All with stories. All from Deb's side of the family (except for some things on the wall, from my side) but nobody has space for pretty-but-useless furniture. I suspect that we will make some attempt to find a home for them before calling 1-800-GOTJUNK?.

I'll video Deb talking about the old furniture, and telling the stories, and maybe those files will be immortal on the Internet. Who knows?

OTOH, we have modern (all bought in this century) furniture that our nieces and nephews already have dibs on. Because (a) it is fully functional, and (2) they have their stories to go with each set. "Oh, remember we used this table for Thanksgiving those two years? I still have those photos." "Oh, I loved those chairs, we'd sit out here on the porch and look at the backyard and talk until late. It was wonderful."

And some day their kids will get asked if they want any of that, and they'll look at them like the old folks are nuts.