September 29, 2013 by clumpaday

One Day More

Clump #60: Clear out last corner of — formerly — stuffed study.

Picture legions of people with beautiful voices belting the words of the title of this post, or listen for yourself on Youtube.

I can’t believe it! Thirty days is almost here. I never thought I’d say this, but it went by so quickly. The 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge was exhausting at first, but I’ve gotten into a groove. How I appreciate everyone who has stuck by and tuned in. I’ve felt your support!

If not for the project and the support, items like this would have been on the probably-permanent-procrastinate-to-don’t list: programs from my father’s memorial service. I kept a few and recycled the rest.

One day more — one pile more. Before:

And After:

AND … now we have a new room in our house! We can walk around freely on the floor! Imagine that!

Tomorrow I have one huge pile in another section of the house. It’s going to be a big challenge at the end of the challenge. “Tomorrow we’ll discover what our God in Heaven has in store …” With any luck it will be a happier ending than in Les Miserables.

September 28, 2013September 28, 2013 by clumpaday

Banished Snake Pit

Uncategorized
Best Buy, Decluttering, Fall, Life, Photos
2 Comments

Clump #59: Unwrap and clean plates. Recycle old, broken laptop and wires at Best Buy.

Within spitting distance of 30 days in my month of September, 30-clump, 30-post challenge! The study is almost all cleared out. It’s a little echo-y … might take some getting used to.

This was a gift from my husband a long time ago. Smaller plates to make for smaller meals and healthier bodies. He had told me to take them back and see if there were others I might like better. Since then they’ve been stashed in the study. Today I decided that plain and simple was just fine with me, and popped them in the dishwasher.

I thought this wicker waste paper basket was a nice relic from my parents’ home … and then I looked inside and saw the snake nest of jumbled wires. Also, an old, hidden, broken laptop from my father’s valiant, but doomed, effort to get my mother to join the computer age. Back to Best Buy!

I think I’m getting recognized there as the woman who brings things in to recycle, but never buys anything.

While I was out today, I noticed that the fall season has suddenly fallen upon us.

Everywhere I went, the signs were glaringly obvious.

Aww … I miss getting costumes ready for the kids.

Here I am, cloud-crazed again. This was the view from a cart corral in a grocery store parking lot:

I’m feeling very grateful for the impetus this blog has given me to take more photos. As a result, I’ve become much more attuned to the beauty around me … and above me.

September 27, 2013September 27, 2013 by clumpaday

Mortalitea

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Battlestar Galactica, Decluttering, Life, Mortality, Photos, roses
2 Comments

Clump #58: Take random items to post office and send to older daughter.

The weather here has made fall achingly beautiful so far. On the phone with my older daughter today, I mentioned that I recently told my mom, “I wish it would go on forever,” to which my mom wisely replied, “Then we wouldn’t appreciate it.”

This reminded my daughter of a quote from the series Battlestar Galactica, which I looked up: (Spoken by the leader of the rebel Cylons) “In our civil war, we’ve seen death. We’ve watched people die. Gone forever. As terrible as it was beyond the reach of the Resurrection ships, something began to change. We could feel a sense of time, as if each moment held its own significance. We began to realize that for our existence to hold any value, it must end. To live meaningful lives, we must die and not return. The one human flaw that you spend your life distressing over … Mortality is the one thing … Well, it’s the one thing that makes you whole.” I haven’t watched Battlestar, but that quote really spoke to my mood and preoccupation.

I sent this same daughter a package with a few thing I’ve been meaning to get to her for way too long. I included my dad’s old — vintage — warm-up suit to give to a good friend of hers. This is truly the last of the parent-clothes to release. A weight is lifted.

I gave a Reiki treatment to a good friend and was richly rewarded with tea in her beautiful garden.

I couldn’t resist taking pictures of the roses by a stone shed. Don’t we appreciate late September roses more because we know their season is almost over?

September 26, 2013 by clumpaday

Hats Off

Uncategorized
Clothes, Decluttering, Life, Mortality, Photos
3 Comments

Clump #57: Bring last of parents’ clothes to Goodwill.

I took this picture of a maple tree yesterday while sitting outside with my mom. I was thinking that soon all those green leaves will be changing color and falling. The theme of mortality seems never far from my mind as I contend with the last few piles of my parents’ belongings on my 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge.

I plucked this one leaf, already beginning to change color, the way I once was able to pluck one grey hair from my head and say, I’m young again!

I apologize for sounding like Debbie Downer! I thought bringing a couple of bags of clothes to the Goodwill would be an easy clump. Something of the essence of a person remains on those well-worn items. More than just smell.

I had been saving my mom’s mink stole and a fur trimmed jacket for our high school’s theater department. When the new costume director finally emailed, she said they were starting to purge their collection. The nerve of them purging while I’m purging! Here’s a photo of my parents with the jacket:

I also brought a bag of my dad’s clothes I had held aside for my older daughter to pick through for something she could wear. This is a tuxedo my mom snagged from “The Barter Bar,” a used clothing exchange where she had volunteered. She and my dad would go to fancy events and get such a kick out of the Barter Bar tux bought for a pittance. I hope someone else will have the same delight.

I came home with two of my dad’s hats I had planned to give away. I wasn’t strong enough. Maybe my son might someday want to wear them. In the meantime, they are on the shelf in the hall coat closet with the whisk broom that used to reside in the coat closet of my youth. (Does anyone brush off their clothes anymore … outside of Downton Abbey?)

The beautiful sky today lifted my spirits. This view seemed to confirm the rightness of winnowing down.

September 25, 2013 by clumpaday

Desktop Dilemma

Clump #56: Clear off papers on top of desk in study and whittle down monster paper pile.

These papers have been piled on this desktop for so long, they’ve calcified. I put them together with the Pile Within the Pile left over from the previous paper purge. We do have file cabinet drawers, but the papers in there must be mummified by now.

I did a bunch of sorting today, but the process was overwhelming; I couldn’t finish the job in one day. To paraphrase Roy Scheider in Jaws, I’m going to need a bigger boat. Must repeat: one clump at a time. I had to see this desk completely cleared off, and here it is:

I read about clean vs. messy desks in an article that was one of the top 10 most emailed from the New York Times online this week. I’m kind of upset about it. Apparently, “People blessed with innate conscientiousness, meaning that they are organized and predictable, typically eat better and live longer than people who are disorderly. They also tend to have immaculate offices.” The researchers also discovered that “Disorderly environments seem to inspire breaking free of tradition … which can produce fresh insights.”

So, our choice is living healthier and longer with a clean desk, or imaginatively and creatively with a messy desk. Am I alone in desiring, even demanding, both?

The little boy on the cover of one of my favorite catalogs (in the recycling bag) is urging me to continue this quest. I’m searching for a middle ground between abject messiness and sterile cleanliness. I can’t lose sight of the forest for the trees (papers).

September 24, 2013September 24, 2013 by clumpaday

Physical and Spiritual Discernment

Clump #55: Clear away two more bags on floor of study. I’m getting very close to an imperfectly-perfectly clear floor in this room, all because of the personal 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge. Yay!

This was a simple clump, but its reverberations will be far-reaching. I’m getting the floor de-cluttered in the room that was stuffed with stuff, to the point where we couldn’t (and didn’t want to) walk there.

Here they are, long-forgotten and formerly hidden in the clutter:

One was filled with the fishing gear we use on our annual trip to Minnesota. We also have an annual “Where did we stash the fishing gear?” routine … so utterly predictable, annoying, and time-wasting.

This year will be different …. wow! Look at us now!

The lone glove in the bag is reunited with its mate in the glove drawer, and all is right in the glove world again.

The other small paper bag contained knitting instructions for socks (something I would have been really bugged at not locating next time the sock-knitting urge strikes) and a great book, Decision Making & Spiritual Discernment, by Nancy L. Bieber. Why these two were stashed together, I have no idea.

I took a class last year on Spiritual Discernment, based on this book. Nancy Bieber taught the first session and gave us a few hand-outs. Rereading them today reminded me of a quote I especially loved: “Live up to the Light thou hast, and more will be given to thee.” –Caroline Fox

September 23, 2013 by clumpaday

Oh boy … now I can vacuum!

Clump 54: Clear out various books and bags on floor of former room of gloom.

This day has been chock-a-block, so the post will be quick. Actually, the message today might be that clearing a clump and writing can, indeed, be squeezed into even the busiest of days. If not for the 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge, I would not have attempted it — no time! Here are two piles littering the floor:

The books were easily scooped up and placed on a bookshelf. Bookshelf organizing can wait for another day.

I thought this bag would contain my father’s obituary. Cue the dreading Duh-duh-duh music. It was actually a newspaper from the day he died. Not something to keep.

When scanning the obituaries in that day’s paper, I noticed Phyllis Diller had died around that time. Am I the only one who imagines the strange couplings of deceased souls arriving in the afterlife together? It pleases me to think of laughter around my dad.

Yes, it’s true … I am posting a photo of dirt on my floor for publication. I don’t know whether to be more embarrassed or disgusted. Remember all those Good Housekeeping magazines? This was what was underneath. Now I can vacuum the whole floor. Who-hoo!

Before anyone gets any ideas about my turning into a neat freak, I present this bit of philosophy I noticed in a shop this summer.

Imperfectly, yet delightedly, clumping along.

September 20, 2013September 21, 2013 by clumpaday

Decisions, Decisions

Clump #51: Empty out yet another box of keepsakes.

If not for the power of this 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge, I would honestly put off going through this box for … forever, really. To tackle it, I have to make difficult, heart-wrenching decisions. My inner two-year-old has been whining at the thought of going through it all day. But I don’t want to!

The hen is a family heirloom. My mom always had a thing for hens, and this one would sit in the center of the table at Easter, surrounded by our dyed eggs.

I put the hen on a basket and let it roost on top of our kitchen cabinet. She seems content there.

Here are some of the ironware items my mom collected that, to me, telegraph a sense of home:

I had to reorganize a bunch of cookbooks to fit the pieces in. One of the books was given to me by a dear friend for my wedding shower. I love the book, but, wow, Martha — we were so much younger then!

I was struck by an article in today’s Philadelphia Inquirer about an effort to preserve Pennsylvania’s top ten most endangered objects, “tangible pieces of Pennsylvania history.” The cost for the state to care for these items range from $1,665 for the earliest known free frank signed by George Washington; to $5,000 for Thaddeus Stevens’ wig; to $25,480 for preserving the visitors’ book for a jailed nineteenth-century abolitionist. Pictured is a 1536 illuminated Mennonite Froschauer Bible. The state “is launching a six-week ‘crowdsourcing’ effort to preserve them.”

Pennsylvania First Lady Susan Corbett was quoted as saying, “These artifacts tell us who we are and where we came from.” The same thing applies as I decide which tangible pieces of our family history to save and which to let go.

Ironically, on the same page as the article about endangered artifacts, there was a poignant article about a ten-year old boy who was so unhappy with his school in Philadelphia that he wrote a letter to the president. He was upset after a year with a frustrating teacher. “Still, he enjoyed gym, art, and music classes. Watching the news on TV over the summer, he learned that those extra subjects were being cut back in the troubled school district.” He went to the top for help in getting into to a better school. Unfortunately, crowdsourcing efforts will not fix the Philadelphia school system.

Our choice of what to keep and what to let go, what to fund and what to cut, does say a lot about who we are and what we value.

September 18, 2013September 19, 2013 by clumpaday

Turning a Corner

Clump #49: Unload two boxes of sentimental stuff.

Day 18 of my 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge … where I am currently clearing out a room used to stash my parents’ belongings a year after my father’s death, in honor of his birthday this week.

This is too hard! I just called my sisters for reinforcement, and they were both out (unless they are now screening my calls). Here are the two boxes I unpacked:

Some things in there were pretty easy to put right into a Goodwill box or a Fall Festival box — our Quaker Meeting is having its annual festival in October. Great timing. I hope someone will want to buy this beautiful Japanese fan:

One box was almost completely filled with framed photos. Below are hand-made paperweights two of my sisters and I made in grade school. We will have to have a big picture-redistribution.

The red framed photo is from the first Christmas card my husband and I sent with three kids in it. That winter was the most severe weather I can remember. Getting the photo taken and putting the card together seemed akin to scaling Mount Everest. I believe the adorable outfits were from a very exclusive line found at a yard sale.

Okay. Here are the most difficult items. My mother’s purse and jewelry box. I need a sister consultation about these. And then the candle.

Here’s a piece of advice for anyone in the sad position of doing business with a funeral home. Do NOT take a candle with a picture of your dear deceased loved one with their birth and death dates, the words “Celebration of a Life,” and in this case, a background picture of a golf course. We lit the candle during the two memorial services we had for my dad … but now what? I really don’t want to use it again, but throwing it away seems like a sacrilege.

On a lighter note, here is the empty corner. Free from the weight of heavy memories and expectations. Those canes lurking nearby are next.

And on an even happier note, I brought the pansy pillow and the album of pictures from previous clumps/posts to my mom today. She was pleased to get them. One of the pictures in the album summed up my parents’ relationship. Two different people (check out the body language) who made a yin-yang-like whole and who truly celebrated life:

September 15, 2013September 16, 2013 by clumpaday

Mom Is A What?!

Clump #46: Recycle old plant pots.

My husband actually said these words to our college student daughter today: “I found out that Mom is a pot plant hoarder.” No, no, no! He meant to say “plant pot hoarder.” Good heavens!

The dear man was cleaning out our garage and unearthed a whole bunch of plant pots that I had been meaning to recycle for ages. Even I was shocked at the number. I think I started stacking them together when our township recycled only numbers 1 and 2 plastic. Now we can recycle 1 through 7. Out they go.

I don’t think of myself as a hoarder, but I guess we are all on a spectrum. The sad souls who end up on T.V. in houses with life-threatening clutter and dead cats are on one end, and on the other are those who are disabled by obsessive cleanliness. I guess I would have to put myself on the hoarding side, after all.

I’m reminded of a store I drove by this summer:

What a clever name! I was disappointed that it was not open for business.

The moral of the story is to address clutter when it looks like this (from the show, Little Shop of Horrors) …

Or it could turn into this!!

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Tag / Decluttering