I apologize for being a little overwhelmed right now, it's only been about six weeks since my husband died unexpectedly and I'm just starting to understand what I'm facing here. Richard collected. Anything. Everything. He was the guy at the auction who bid a buck on a box full of junk just to get the auctioneer moving along. And he still had every one of those boxes of junk, somewhere. I have only been through the bedroom and 'his' room so far, but I think I've gathered the majority of the knife hoard. I also filled 2 laundry baskets with tubs and tins and boxes of small tools, nuts, bolts, fasteners, micro-collectibles, and just 'stuff' - all that still needs sorted through - plus dozens of containers of things I was starting to sort out but put aside to go through this winter. (He also collected containers and tins and old cheese boxes and...) I still have ahead of me: the entire stuffed basement, the old granary, his half of the garage, a 16x60 house trailer, a 16x40 chicken shed, an old barn foundation full of metal and junk, and the old summer kitchen which I believe holds mostly old iron and porcelain wood burning stoves. I have disposed of a fifth wheel camper we never used because, hello, we didn't have a truck that could pull it; an unused boat and trailer, and the last two of 15 various nonfunctional vehicles that lined the back of the property. The knives, at least, seem to have been more or less consolidated into the two rooms I've inventoried, and hopefully they have some value. And they are much more interesting to poke through than the countess totes full of old glassware and canning jars and auction miscellany filling the farm sheds. I don't know how we coexisted more or less peacefully for over 40 years. I hate clutter, I'm not a fan of the care and maintenance of clutter. But to Richard, this wasn't clutter, it was all fascinating and interesting and something to do. Unfortunately, now it's all clutter again.