Neither the Husband nor I are pack racks. Not much, that is. He still has one or two boxes of college textbooks, and I have a box, or two, of research from the mid-70s about Filipinos in the United States for a book idea that has been on the back burner since, well, at least 1979, the last time I was living full time in the hometown. I think we—the husband and I—have been very good about consolidating and downsizing our belongings since we moved in together way back when. I came with 40+ years of personal stuff, both single and married stuff, along with some of the pre-me things that belonged to the deceased husband. He, the Husband, came with his 40+ years of personal stuff, both single and married stuff, along with some of the pre-him things that belonged to his deceased wife. I had lived in a one-bedroom apartment, while he had resided in a studio. Together, we moved into a three-bedroom house with a big basement. Surprisingly, we had no problem filling in the space. Quickly,