December 16, 2013 by clumpaday

Who’s Holding the Bag?

Clump #118: Try to finish Christmas shopping.

I’ve got a secret for the men reading this post. Right now at this time of year, everywhere they go, women are performing the verbal equivalent of a secret handshake. It’s a simple: “Are you finished?” No other details need to be stated. The question is usually answered with a heavy sigh, maybe even a roll of very tired eyes, and then an assessment of how far she is from the holiday-shopping-finish line. I thought I would reach it today, but no such luck. I feel like that rabbit running along with a carrot dangling from a stick attached to its head. Just one more thing, and I’ll be finished … wait, one more thing, and then … oh, but don’t forget …

Added to the mix, I’ve been thinking about the kerfuffle over Megyn Kelly’s assertion on Fox News that Santa is white, and for that matter so is Jesus ( here is Jon Stewart’s hilarious and thought-provoking treatment of it on Comedy Central’s The Daily Show with Jon Stewart).

And I was listening to this holiday classic, The Man With the Bag:

Old Mr. Kringle
is soon gonna jingle
The bells that’ll tingle
all your troubles away
Everybody’s
waiting for the man
with the bag
Cause Christmas
is coming again

It occurred to me that, not only is our symbol for all this magic white, he is also a man. Ahem. And I do mean magic.

One year our son was old enough to doubt, but young enough to want to still believe. He tested the magic by asking for a pumpkin for Christmas. Kind of a mixture of A Charlie Brown Christmas and It’s The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. Let me tell you, I summoned all the magic I could conjure. Looking at our sinking pumpkin outside the other day (a little behind in my holiday transitioning, perchance?), I must have had angels working for me to deliver the goods in good condition.

Last night I had a valuable coupon that was about to expire, so I trudged to our local mall to “finish up” … HA! And guess who I saw leaving the building as I was entering? Ho-ho! He agreed to a photo and, rather than asking whether I’d been bad or good, he asked whether I was going to send it to anyone. I told him I would put it on my blog, but he wasn’t interested in the specifics. (My hands shook like a bowl full of jelly!)

Mr. Kringle said he was feeling hot and tired. So … I guess maybe a patriarchal figure can relate to a woman’s plight, after all.

December 15, 2013 by clumpaday

Sing Hallelujah!

Clump #117: Clear spare change out of drawer and donate to a good cause.

Today’s clump wasn’t big or difficult, but it sure felt good. I took all the spare change that my husband had accumulated in his bureau drawer (with his permission of course), and donated it to a bring-in-your-change fundraiser at our Quaker Meeting for victims of the typhoon in the Philippines.

Before Meeting we participated in a rousing rendition of The Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah.

The member who directed us remarked that the holidays tend to be a time of year for stress and strain, tiffs between people, etc., so she recommended, “Just say ‘Hallelujah,’ and it will all be fixed.”

Not everything can be fixed by saying “Hallelujah,” as many people in the Philippines could attest.

But I think it’s been scientifically proven that you can not feel holiday stresses or blues while singing the majestic Hallelujah Chorus.

December 14, 2013December 18, 2013 by clumpaday

Oh My Nerves!

Clump #116: Clear off kitchen island and table.

This photo of a gingerbread man made me laugh. It was part of an article in The New York Times, “20 Recipes for Cookies and Bars.” Something about the placement of eyebrows on his face makes him look like he’s saying, “Help! I’m overwhelmed!” Or maybe that’s just me.

Everywhere you turn in this countdown to Christmas, there’s an article or flyer or book advertising new and better holiday recipes, meals, gifts, crafts, decorations, etc., etc. Enough!

When I was in my twenties I worked in the Accounting Office at a University. Right now I can hear the snickering of people reading who know my poor math skills. Be that as it may, the chairman of our department called our office “The Nerve Center,” which seemed appropriate, since we kept the grant money flowing that funded the research. I’ve often thought of the kitchen island as our family nerve center. Even though it’s just the two of us now, when we get busy and a bit overwhelmed, everything gets plopped down there; and the escalating clutter further escalates the stress levels: “Where did I put the…”

Our nerve center was in overload and shutting down. Nothing works when the nerve center is blocked.

So thanks to a clearing session lasting the span of the soundtrack of A Charlie Brown Christmas, the island energy is flowing freely again. Even our rooster, Raoul, seems impressed.

I have to add one more morose photo that would go with yesterday’s set. My husband and I went to the grocery store early this morning. On our way out of the parking lot we saw this line of vultures on the roof of the Old Country Buffet. It gave new meaning to the expression “All you can eat.”

Also, reading an email discussion thread today from the International House of Reiki gave me the image of exactly what I was striving to say in yesterday’s post. A writer named Paul Norden joined the conversation and mentioned a few books that had inspired him. One was Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche; Mr. Norden wrote, the experience of reading it was “…like a sage who comes and shines a light into the basement of a poor man’s house, illuminating the riches that are there.”

Since I refuse to end with a photo of vultures, here are some poinsettias from the red, green, pink, and white floral sea in the market today.

And, for good measure, a fittingly stress-relieving “quote of the day” from Frans Stiene of The House of Reiki, via Pema Chodron:

“The happiness we seek is our birthright. To discover it we need to be more gentle with ourselves, more compassionate toward ourselves and our universe. …

The happiness we seek cannot be found through grasping, trying to hold on to things. …

It cannot be found through getting serious and uptight about wanting things to go in the direction we think will bring happiness. We are always taking hold of the wrong end of the stick. …

The point is that the happiness we seek is already here and it will be found through relaxation and letting go rather than through struggle.”

–Pema Chodron

December 13, 2013December 13, 2013 by clumpaday

Be Here Now

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Horses, Life, Photos, thich nhat hanh, Winter
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Clump #115: Wind down Christmas present list.

I couldn’t do anything right today. I was reminded of a mom from our neighborhood where I grew up. She had just come from a tennis game, and my dad asked her how she had played. She shot back (with a slight southern twang), “I couldn’t hit a pea into the Grand Canyon!”

The photos I took on the way to see my mom today were notable in how many I managed to blur with my finger over the lens in the upper left corner. What was my problem?! Here’s the goose with the incredible wardrobe, looking jolly (note the white beard!), and my finger:

A lovely shadow drama played out on the side of a house, marred by sloppy camera handling:

Believe it or not, this pair was part of a cute grouping of snow people making up a happy scene. The other photos of the group suffered from poor lighting; this one somehow managed to appear sinister:

And the stain on this sidewalk looked like the ghost of a Christmas tree:

Oh dear. The lack of closure on my Christmas shopping is getting to me. There were other horses in the field below who looked interested in coming over, but then they turned and walked farther away. Maybe the horses and I are all suffering from sunlight deprivation.

Here was the same scene last Spring:

Ahh … Spring! Sometimes savoring the present moment is not easy at all.

I was turning over in my head today the wonderful comment I received about yesterday’s post featuring the Thich Nhat Hanh quote (from his 2014 calendar): “Our practice is always to go back to the present moment, to the here and the now. Only in the here and the now can we touch life deeply.” The commenter referred to it as a “reminder.” I usually think of sage wisdom as something to take in. But I began to realize the best wisdom is truly a Re-Minder. Something we already know, that we need to bring back to our mind from deep inside.

When you “touch life deeply,” “in the here and now,” amazing things happen.

Like seeing a polar bear leap from a mound of snow.

December 13, 2013December 13, 2013 by clumpaday

Presents in the Present

Clump #114: Try to finish Christmas shopping.

A recap: I challenged myself to get holiday-related tasks taken care of in November, so that I might have a stress-free December: Project Enjoy Christmas. I am sorry to say that I’m still feeling holiday stress in December. I am, however, further ahead than my norm for mid-December. Maybe I should be satisfied with crawling before running, much less skipping and leaping for joy.

I also challenged myself to clump and post every day. Amazingly (to me), I’ve kept that momentum going. Once I get out of the rhythm of daily posts, the excuses become too seductive and the days not blogging too numerous.

Today I happened to crack open a calendar I bought for next year, one with quotes from Thich Nhat Hanh and beautiful illustrations by Nicholas Kirsten-Honshin. I had forgotten that the cover was a picture of a bird with a red berry in its beak.

It seems to me that the berry represents the present moment, and the bird is devouring it. Was I subconsciously thinking of this image while seeking out photos of red berries in the landscape? Hmm.

I was telling some friends yesterday that taking pictures for this blog has been a lesson about the present moment. So often I see something I ache to take a picture of, but, for whatever reason, it’s inconvenient to stop. I’ll tell myself that I can come back later, and I’ll try to bookmark the exact location. But it’s never the same. I’m like the proverbial fisherman, bragging about the big one that got away: “Oh, the way the sun was lighting up those gorgeous cows, right next to my car! If only I had the time/could find a place to park/had my camera …” I’ve been taught this lesson over and over and over. It’s never the same. The sunlight is different, the leaves have fallen, the snow has melted … the cows have gone home. Change is the order of business around here, and that one moment is the only one exactly like it that you ever get.

To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.

I guess I need to have more patience with myself. In the organization realm I’m a two-year-old wanting to be a big girl.

The change I’m seeking is a little covered-over now, but it’s waiting to shine.

December 10, 2013 by clumpaday

Clean and White

Clump #112: Confront plastic Bag O’ Junk.

For the life of me, I can’t remember when, why or how this bag of random junk got stashed together. A mystery for the ages. But today I broke it down into things I can do: toss out, give away, or, in at least three cases, return to someone else. I enlisted my husband’s help and we puzzled over the pile together.

A few of the contents: foreign coins. Great timing! I’m going to see my younger daughter tomorrow and she can drop them off at her college’s Travel Abroad Office.

So, a little lesson for myself. When an area is cluttered, it follows that the floor below is filthy.

What’s left? My mother’s and my accordion recipe files. They are not going anywhere … yet. I’m sure the recipes could be winnowed down, but that is a clump for another day.

Clean at last:

We had a big snow storm here today, and the world was transformed. It was a day of cleaning inside and out.

I couldn’t stop taking pictures. These are just a few that seem like I was photographing in black and white.

I’ve been whining a bit (just a bit?!) lately about the loss of color in the landscape. Man oh man, I couldn’t complain today! I had a difficult time doing errands without pulling over every two seconds to capture another shot.

The minimal palette is divine.

At this very moment, the Christmas CD I’m listening to is Kelly Clarkson singing the song White Christmas.

May all your holiday days be clear and white, bright and light, and filled with beautiful sights.

December 9, 2013December 10, 2013 by clumpaday

Paper Tigers and Hearts

Uncategorized
Decluttering, Life, Photos, roses, Tea Party, Valentine's Day
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Clump #111: Clear out more of pantry floor.

Sometimes (certainly not always), a dreaded task turns out to be not nearly as bad as expected. This box was a paper tiger, filled with, I’m embarrassed to admit, receipts from last year’s Christmas gifts. I know exactly how long they’ve been stuffed in there.

And underneath were just plastic bags … piece of cake! Just a small paper shredding job.

And then there were two boxes of valentine craft goodies which belong in the basement, to be ready for the holiday in February. My mom started our tradition of hand-made cards.

For years I’ve held a Valentine’s Tea the Sunday before February 14th. Below is a photo taken at last year’s party. It was the first one I held as an empty-nester, without the help of my younger daughter, the baking-phenom. I was feeling very blue getting our traditional chocolate dipped strawberries ready. I hadn’t done a very good job of inviting guests; it’s usually just an impromptu handful of neighbors, and friends of our kids. Up until the doorbell rang, there was a real possibility that no one would come. I had to laugh, thinking it would be a great stanza to the Beatles song, Eleanor Rigby … hosted her Valentine’s Tea, but it wasn’t the same / Nobody came … “All the lonely people …” Ah, just finding the link for that song reminded me that yesterday was the anniversary of the murder of John Lennon, 33 years ago. Now I’m feeling old and sad!

Happily, a few die-hard friends did arrive for tea, strawberries, sweets, and valentine-making. One guest wore a fancy red coat and white gloves!

So, not too much more clearing to go … chipping away the dread, along with the ubiquitous onion skins.

I just hate to end with an ugly photo … here’s one more from last year’s party. What Valentine’s remembrance would be complete with out roses?

December 9, 2013 by clumpaday

Food and Flurries

Clump #110: Purge two bags from the floor of pantry.

Pictured below, the ugly truth: bags of food we had cleared out for a long ago construction project, and made even uglier when I discovered an unopened plastic bottle of water down there with a very small leak. The price of negligence.

After: getting to this point is making me feel more hopeful that I can, indeed, get through the mess of stuff down there. This is a new and refreshing feeling! As the song goes, “Inch by inch; row by row … Gonna make this garden grow …” But here, I’m shedding a garden of food.

All right, I can’t post another picture of my claustrophobically cluttered closet! Outside, we had our first substantial snow of the year. Occasionally people at our Quaker Meeting mention sensing the Friendly presence of generations past who were (are?) a part of the fabric of the meeting community. Taking the picture below was one of those moments for me.

The bark on the oak tree in front of the meeting house usually looks like elephant skin, but with snow, was changing to zebra skin.

Nothing like the sight of colored lights on freshly fallen snow, at home tonight.

If tiny snowflakes, joined together, can create puffy white mounds, I’ve got to believe someday my small clumps will accumulate into a meaningful improvement in our house and lives … inch by inch.

December 7, 2013 by clumpaday

Dolls, Wanted and Not

Clump # 109: Return unwanted decoration; start clearing floor of pantry.

I helped at a local food pantry’s one-day Christmas gift give away for needy people today. The items up for grabs were all donated, second-hand, but in good condition. Except for one table of toys in the back, which were all new, and where I was stationed. Mostly I had to tell people who came by that there was a limit of one item per family, since the new toys had to last the whole day. People came in by appointment, and it wouldn’t be fair to those with late appointments if all the new toys had been taken by those with early times. I was the fairness police, and for the most part it was okay … people were understanding about the rule. But I will be haunted by a woman in a wheelchair who wanted a Barbie for each of her two daughters.

Barbie, Barbie, Barbie. By far the most popular toy on the “New Toy Table.” What is it about this doll? My sisters and I played endlessly with our Barbies, and the allure has not diminished in the least. I am going to keep my eye out for good sales and vow to donate some more new ones next year.

Since the Barbies given away today were very basic, in a simple two-piece bathing suit, I was able to see the difference in the doll’s body shape since my day. Barbie’s body can now support life! And she has a belly button!

I’m avoiding discussing the clump today. I did get a box out to UPS to return a holiday decoration I had purchased but was displeased with. This sounds very snooty, especially given the way I spent my morning.

The clump I’m stumped about is on the darned floor of the pantry I’ve been clearing out. Why in heaven’s name did I put it there? Most likely a quick shove-in right before guests were to arrive. But inside lurks something I’ve been flummoxed about for a long time. Ironically, a doll.

My younger daughter received it from my father-in-law’s second wife. My husband’s mother died when our younger daughter was too young to remember her, so this step-grandmother, who didn’t have a grand daughter, took over lovingly in her place. This was a doll that had belonged to her daughter, who had died without children. I had packed it up to send to the step-grandmother’s surviving son, but he and his wife adamantly insisted that we keep it, since she meant for it to go to our daughter. The only problem is that our daughter never really cared for it. I know she appreciated the gesture … but really didn’t want to keep it. I’m sorry to say, she was no Barbie.

So now I feel badly every time I see her, or think about her. She even has hand-made clothes!

For now I’ll put this clump in the basement, but with heaviness, because one of these days I’ll be de-clumping the basement and will have to revisit it.

I put the question out to anyone who is still reading: What should I do with her? I can’t throw her out. Sell on eBay? Donate to Goodwill? Save for future generations?

I guess I’ll start with the premise that the loving and lovely grandmother would not want her gift to be a burden … stuck, rocklike, weighing us down.

Clump A Day

postcards from the clogosphere

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