When our neighborhood was platted and the homes constructed, property taxes were assessed per room. And a closet was considered a room. To avoid the closet tax, most Munger Place homes were built without closets. This didn’t much matter back then when people only had a change of work clothes and a Sunday-go-to-meetin’ outfit. Later, closets were added in corners and odd spots as needs changed. Now that everyone has way too much stuff and new outfits arrive daily on the porch steps via one simple mouse click for next day UPS delivery, those closets are stuffed with barely worn clothes and shoes and prom dresses and halloween costumes and business suits that haven’t seen daylight or a boardroom since business casual became the new professional norm.
In our house, Kelsey’s room has the coolest closet. It’s big and spacious and comes with it’s own stained glass window. I do some of my best shopping in that closet. Full of treasures, it’s convenient and the price is always right. Some items were left behind when she moved to Austin for college and some were left behind when she moved to Washington DC for work. On a rare trip home, usually around the holidays, she may leave clothes and take others. So the inventory sometimes changes.
Kelsey is happy and thriving, busy working and preparing for law school. As she should be. Her baccalaureate poster sits on the closet floor, and sometimes I like to go in the closet to look at the photos on it, just remembering. The closet still smells like her perfume.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
“This One’s for the Girls”, Martina McBride
“I Hope You Dance”, Lee Ann Womack