My parents lived through the Depression, so I was raised in the waste not want not way also. I still cringe if food gets wasted. I think the Depression thinking I grew up with plays a part in why I have such a hard time getting rid of stuff. I have to force myself to get rid of stuff that still has some "good" left in it -- I do it, of course, but it's uncomfortable. I've been on a downsizing "stuff" campaign lately, and I spend entirely too much time looking at each thing thinking "I could use that for something . . ." before I put it in the Goodwill bag.