Growing up, my sister and I could never understand why spring-cleaning was called so. As far as we could see, clearing out closets was an exercise our mother undertook with utter disregard to seasons. Every weekend, rain or shine, sweat or chill, entire rooms were overhauled and their contents interrogated on their usefulness, most of them ending sentenced to the recycle bin or a journey forward. Nothing was above reproach, nothing worth saving, except: Wedding …[Read more]