My grandmother's house. I have two sewing machines, a 6-place dining set, fine china to serve 8, two sewing machines, several rickety old pillar tables and candle stands, a cabinet full of random glassware, a drawer full of ratty, yellowed old doilies my father "remembers from when I was a kid." At least three unassworthy antique rocking chairs that are too delicate to serve a purpose...So much shit my father wants, but won't move into his own heavily cluttered house.