September 12, 2013 by clumpaday

Feeling Like a Blobfish

Clump #43: Tackle box of parents’ paraphernalia.

I now have an icon for the way I feel:

I saw this poor creature today on The Daily Beast website, which reported that “The Ugly Animal Preservation Society has just named this gelatinous glob of goo — the blobfish — the world’s ugliest animal. The society aims to draw awareness to at-risk animals who wouldn’t normally receive attention because of their extreme ugliness.” Awww.

What brought about my own blobfish mood? Having to start working through the remnants of my parents’ possessions. Very sad. I promised myself I just had to look through one box only, and called my sisters to confer with them on some of the tough decisions.

Some items were easy to dispose of, like a bottle of Saratoga water from a trip the whole family took together many years ago. I already had one of my own on the kitchen window sill. It casts a lovely blue light when the sun is shining through.

These mugs were in the medium category of difficulty for giving away. I had bought them for my parents to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. This was The New York Times front page on the day they were married in 1950. Off they go.

I made these place mats and napkins for my mom one Christmas. They bring back good memories of great meals at my parents’ house. When I look at them, though, I want to sew them over again and do a better job. Into the give-away box they go.

I have a new to-do list for other box contents, like checking on the value of old books, but these two items were the only clear keep-ables in the whole box: a ketchup bottle from my mother’s family’s ketchup business and the wedding topper from my parents’ wedding cake. What a handsome couple.

For now they will live in our hutch, away from harm, out of the box, and a pleasure for all to see.

September 9, 2013September 9, 2013 by clumpaday

Nailed by a Greeting Card

Clump #40: Tackle piles in sad, bad room.

Clump number 40. Brings to mind biblical 40 days and 40 nights. Today I felt like I was crawling through a desert. I gave myself the assignment of starting in on the contents of a room that used to be a study. Beyond just cluttered, it’s become a room filled with sadness and self-recrimination. A room where I stashed many of my father’s possessions after getting through his funeral last August, it went on to become a general stashing place. We really should feel more shame in instructing guests not to look through the glass doors as they enter our house. Very much like “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,” in The Wizard of Oz. Our secret flaws revealed … right out in the open.

I was galvanized by spotting this card in a store. I’m someone who believes there are no coincidences, so it was not surprising that I wasn’t looking for a card, and I didn’t even see the others in the series. (I’ll have to go back.)

I immediately thought, I’m not a hoarder! But I opened the card and had to laugh out loud. That’s me!

The card is from a line called Frank & Funny, written by comedians. You can see all of them at frankandfunny.com. This one was written by Andy Forrester … a kindred spirit!

Here’s the kicker. This is an untouched picture of part of our study:

I imagined myself paging through each magazine, keeping whatever article or pearls of wisdom I knew must be saved. But a strange thing happened. I felt increasingly physically sick at the mere thought. It occurred to me, first, that nothing in those magazines is more important than my health and well-being. Second, that if I hadn’t subscribed and received them in the mail, I wouldn’t have thought a thing about what I was missing in them. Third, there is a wealth of information in magazines and books in the library and in the world. I don’t expect I will be able to retrieve and retain every bit for my use. Fourth, I was making these points on the phone with my older daughter, and she gave me the great insight that I was not trusting that the wisdom I might need would come to me in a different way or form. Wow.

So I threw them into bags for recycling with great abandon and relief. As I tossed them in, I’d look at the headlines and, in my head, add variations on the words, “when you toss out your magazines.” For example, “Declutter in Minutes” by tossing out your magazines!

“Instant Stress Relief” when you toss out your magazines!

“Look Better At Any Age” by tossing out your magazines. You get the idea. It turns out, like Dorothy, I had the power all along.

The only page I kept was this picture of a wonderful summer drink. I made it for my younger daughter’s high school graduation party. It was refreshing and yummy. Now I will be able to find it and make it again.

Here’s the recipe:

Hibiscus Cooler

Total Time: 5 minutes; Serves 4 Also: delicious without booze!

In a large pitcher, combine 2 cups ginger ale, 1 cup iced hibiscus tea (such as Red Zinger), 1/2 cup rum, (optional), and 1 sliced peach. Serve over ice. Garnish with fresh tarragon sprigs.

The fresh tarragon sprigs made a real difference. Cheers!

September 7, 2013 by clumpaday

Three Pairs

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arts, Decluttering, Life, Photos, Vincent Van Gogh
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Clump #38: Clean up remnants of killer-beach-bag pile.

Day Seven of my 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge. One solid week! Will I be able to keep up the pace? Tune In!

The day before yesterday I powered through a beach bag which was straining with the weight of long-neglected papers. But as everyone knows (please let there be other people who do this), the real work begins when it’s time to approach the hot molten lava of the inner pile that can’t be thrown away or recycled.

Decisions must be made. Some are pretty easy, like putting another Billboard magazine in my son’s room. I hope Carly Rae Jepsen can coexist with Fiona Apple.

One little paper (top left in photo below) had the address scribbled on it of a friend who had loaned me the book A Dog’s Purpose, by Bruce Cameron, long, too long ago. It was a funny and touching story told from a dog’s perspective.

I’d bought the sequel when it came out, A Dog’s Journey, intending to send it right out with the loaned book as a thank you/sorry it’s coming back so late gift. By now, the sequel must be in paperback, and she might already have it. As if playing a slot machine that never paid out, I’d had various book and address combinations, but not all three at once. Until today.

I’m still dizzy from the vertigo of searching for those books in the monumental clumps I have yet to scale. It was a good reminder of the wisdom in tackling only one clump a day. Don’t look — don’t look ahead — just concentrate on this one step.

I was close to giving up the search for the loaned book, and buying the friend a new copy, when I finally spotted it. Good Dog! I went right to the post office and mailed them out, with a note containing my apology. I felt an immediate lightness.

Another Cryptoquote answer made its way into the little book I keep for ideas, notes and inspiration. This is one clutter-bug habit I will never apologize for. I love flipping through and getting a jolt of inspiration from the little slivers of paper.

Now the Kurt Vonnegut quote I mentioned in a previous post: (“To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it.”) — by chance — is next to a quote from Vincent Van Gogh: “If you hear a voice within you say ‘you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.”

Two different men with a similar philosophy.

Let me pause now and let it sink in. I find the idea deeply inspiring that one of the greatest artists of all time had any knowledge of a voice saying “you cannot paint.” The Vincent Van Gogh self portrait in the Art Institute of Chicago is one of my favorites. I couldn’t locate my own photo (it was that kind of day), so here it is from google images:

It glows. Ahh, how I love art. I do feel my soul expanding.

September 5, 2013September 5, 2013 by clumpaday

Unfettered

Clump #36: De-Clump blue beach bag.

Day Five of the 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge. I’m getting tired … stay tuned!

I love the word unfettered. Free, unencumbered … joyful, even. It’s how I should feel about this beach bag. A container for a towel, a book, flip-flops, and not much else. Instead, I weighed it down with a ton of unattended-to mail, magazines, and the like.

I’m not going to sugar-coat the story … this clump was rough. So much tedious raking and combing through old, neglected papers. In the middle of the pile, Oprah was there to cheer me on, smiling and proclaiming how happy I would be when I got through it. Thanks, I needed that!

And, yes, I did eventually reach the bottom. Hallelujah! Note the diminished sunlight.

Empty? Not quite. There was something lurking in the bag’s pocket: seashells and sand. As it should be.

Thinking about beaches and being weighed down reminded me of the time we were visiting the New Jersey shore and saw this horseshoe crab. The poor thing was washed up on the sand, burdened for who knows how long with moochers stuck to its shell.

Here’s a close-up (without my finger in the top left corner).

One of the joys of going on vacation is getting away from all of our stuff. The feeling of being unfettered for a while, and if you’re lucky, cleaned and cleared with a wave’s ebb and flow.

May 7, 2013May 7, 2013 by clumpaday

Ironing Deficiency

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Decluttering, Ironing, Life, Photos, Spring
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Clump #27: Ironing pile, take two; ironing solution, take one.

This is an update on the previous post. Yes, I vanquished the towering ironing pile of yore, but that herculean effort did not cure the underlying problem. Articles of clothing in need of ironing quickly started attaching themselves — like barnacles — onto a chair in our bedroom. Just reading the last sentence makes me laugh … as if I had nothing to do with the situation at all. That naughty laundry! Here’s a photo of the barnacle-like accumulation. The longer ignored, the stronger it’s adherence.

When I pried the pile off, this is what the top of the chair looked like. Crushed (fake) velvet. Ouch.

Okay. No further proof needed. This is, indeed, a very bad plan, if you could call it a plan. No more! I am now dedicating this laundry basket to ironing, using the small but powerful talisman(men) of labels. I love labels. This one says: Let it be known throughout the land: the ironing pile now has a home of its own … I command!

I cleared out a little bit of cluttered closet for its new home, no longer an eyesore in the bedroom, or an impediment/detriment to furniture.

As proof that good things come to those who declutter, I found my old dictionary in a pile of books in the closet. It was part of my going-to-college supplies … oh, about a million years ago … back when people looked things up in books, not computers. The sight of this old friend loyally waiting beside me on my desk is a comfort.

Guess what? While I’ve been focused indoors, Spring is busting out all over, outside. Here’s a glimpse. I love the one fully-open little bloomlet in this picture saying,”Wake up — time to open!” like the power of one clean spot in the clutter of a larger closet mess.

Happy Spring!

Clump A Day

postcards from the clogosphere

Tag / Decluttering