Even boats need a junk drawer, and even boat junk drawers get out of hand. Mine did. It was straining it's bounds, threatening to take over more drawers, and creeping up onto the counter.
I eyed it warily, then dove in. With great courage and fortitude I excavated the layers, lifted entangled sculptures that represented the complexity of modern life, and then gasped at my discovery of a drawer organizer firmly glued to the bottom of the drawer.
Finally my junk drawer was empty! A bizarre feeling swept over me. There was a great Disturbance in The Force, a void in the universe, a vacuum that was ready to suck in the entire galley if I didn't bend to the task of filling it hastily. But neatly. Which kind of goes against the whole idea of a junk drawer.
Our boat is a liveaboard and has a small shop space to house boaty stuff so our junk drawer is pretty mundane. It has the required box of birthday cake candles...just in case. Scissors, bag clips, tape - you know the drill. What it has that yours probably doesn't is Velcro strips along the sides to hold it closed during rough weather.
I can blame the need to organize the junk drawer on really rough weather, right? That's what caused the saved rubber bands and wire ties to multiply enough to entangle the whole drawer. That's why there were four utility knives in there, plus a few tools that had been missing for a year.
I sorted and contained like items. I tried to work quickly to fill the gaping maw of that stark, white drawer organizer.
Now it will be easier to pull out a bag clip without rubber bands and paper clips coming along for the ride. It still doesn't feel right, though. It has no character.
This whole Ziploc-bagging-the-small-stuff trend is likely short-lived for me. It's a nice effort, and I'll try to keep it up, but I have the feeling that it won't last. The restless spirit of the junk drawer is unlikely to be quelled for long.