unclutter

The table in the main room of the shack had a hinge in the middle, so it could be folded up onto itself, but I don't recall if I ever saw it folded up like that. Usually it had a lot of stuff on it, and was dusty and dirty when we would arrive. It was my job to throw away anything useless, and move the rest to the far end, then wipe off the clear space so we'd have some place to put things when we got there. It was the only surface in the main room to put things on, other than the floor, the wood stove and the bunks, so it would quickly get more cluttered as time passed.
One day I took a picture of the table with its clutter, which included, among other things: a box of crackers, a kerosene lamp, a bottle of vermouth, a mug, a flashlight, a box of strike anywhere kitchen matches, two sets of cardboard salt and pepper shakers, a jar of grape jelly, a jar of strawberry jam, a jar of Taster's Choice instant coffee, a pot with water, a small jar of olives, a battery powered radio (with useless power cord attached), a couple of shotgun shells, a box of plastic utensils, a couple of cans of beer, a compass, two packages of polska kielbasa, a few napkins, miscellaneous plastic utensils and the shack's "log book."
The far end of the table would often not get wiped, because of the various items accumulated there, so it would remain dusty and might harbor some dried rodent feces. I would occasionally decide to really clean the table. I'd take all food stuffs into the kitchen and distribute them on the shelves where they seemed to belong. I'd put any books that weren't currently being used on the shelf above the door. Documents, maps and the log book would be stacked in a neat pile. Personal items would be put on their owner's bunk. I'd put all the things which were to remain on the table temporarily on the chairs, so the table would be completely clear. Then I'd thoroughly clean the whole table, sometimes taking off years worth of grime.
I'd feel a real sense of accomplishment when I was done, and had moved the few items from the chairs back to the far end of the table. In the dull and dirty world of the north woods cabin, there would be one shiny civilized area in the middle, clean enough to eat off of. One night, shortly after clearing and cleaning the table, I took a picture of grandad sitting at the spotless table reading a Milwaukee Sentinel which he'd gotten in town that day.