Every household has at least one. Usually in or near the kitchen.

It’s the drawer that all the miscellaneous Stuff goes into.

Ours was so full that we couldn’t open in any more. The Stuff seems to have been multiplying on its own. Dark matter could be in there waiting to be discovered.

So yesterday Meda attacked.

First, the drawer’s contents were removed and spread on the counter.

Household archaeology.

What is all this Stuff and why is it here?

First, an array of apparently self-replicating rubber bands. Where in the world did these come from? Once untangled from the rest of the Stuff, they filled a small bag.

Second, the pens. Dozens of them. Many dozen. When put to the practical test, most no longer worked. More Stuff into the trash.

Then there were the many sheets of address labels sent by various nonprofits hoping to plant a little obligation that could later be turned into a reciprocal donation. We long ago stopped giving in to such tactics, but we do keep and occasionally use the labels. But there were far more crammed into the drawer than would could use in the rest of our lives, I’m sure.

Paper clips? Check. Pliers? Check. Post-it notes. Check. Again, possibly a lifetime supply. A collection of keychains. You never know when you’ll need another one. Keys from long gone locks. More keys that have outlasted the memory of what locks they were supposed to open. Tape dispensers. Postage stamps orphaned by postal rate increases long ago. Batteries that appear to have long ago leaked their essence onto at least one of the piles of keys, making an interesting mess to clean up. Business cards from various Tongan tree trimmers and wall builders who have stopped at the house over the years looking for work. A couple of hand-made “Obama ’08” pins sold by a mother-daughter duo at the Denver convention center during the 2008 Democratic Party convention. Crumpled handwritten notes about this or that important telephone call, relevance long lost.

The surprises went on and on, the trash filled, and eventually the Stuff was reduced to manageable proportions.

Spring cleaning, I suppose, even if a few days early.