February 9, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Number Nine, Number Nine

Clump #150: Clear paper pile number nine from floor of study.

It’s the Flippin February Paper Pile Purge. I’m still plowing through the piles my younger daughter sorted out to help us with our paper-pile-up. And I’m flippin out over another snow coming down over the previous snows and the ice, now like broken glass.

Today’s paper pile was fairly easy to take care of. As I document this project day after day, a trend is becoming obvious: I feel the need to apologize for the small size or effort of the day’s clump. But really, by processing papers on a daily basis, it is … easy. Will the lesson be solidified by the end of February?

Our clump of magazine subscription invitations and other similar items, before:

And after, split into shred, recycle, and two papers needing phone calls:

Another lesson learned today: a clump this size is doable even when one is very, very tired, as I am now. I went to a three hour watercolor class at Longwood Gardens, and all that mixing of color has worn me out. I can imagine how lame that sounds … so arduous! Watercolor painting is something I’ve long wanted to do, and was feeling stressed about the reality of making it happen … and, I guess, not measuring up. My clump-by-clump clearing has given me courage to do what I have previously feared.

Our watercolor teacher follows the method of a man named Michael Wilcox, who wrote the book Blue and Yellow Don’t Make Green. He posits that all the colors an artist needs can be made with six shades, two each, warm and cool, of red, blue, and yellow. Here’s my misshapen color wheel:

So many great life lessons from a good teacher: “It’s only paper!” “Stop futzing!” These in response to students, really the whole class, trying to be too perfect.

Since this is the ninth pile of my month-long paper project, I was reminded of The Beatles, their song, Revolution 9, and the fact that today is the 50th anniversary of their first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. I, like many, have a vivid memory of the event. I was lying on my stomach in front of the television. My father was saying over and over, “Isn’t that ridiculous!” to all the screaming and carrying on. I agreed with him, but inside I was screaming and carrying on too!

It’s hard to believe now how long those haircuts looked to us then. Revolutionary.

February 8, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Love in Many Forms

Clump # 149: Sort and clear paper pile number eight of twenty-eight (only twenty more to go!):

Love was the theme of the day today! And I’m not just saying that to spice up yet another picture of a pile of paper (well, okay, maybe a little bit). My younger daughter had sorted the last few piles so specifically (all the Time magazines; The Week; People magazines filed together within the same bigger “magazines” pile) that I can only assume she designated the one my husband and I tackled today as “miscellaneous.” A mixed bag, destined for various file folders.

As usual, we peeled away one shred pile and one recycle pile, below. Little by little, as I/we do this every day, I am losing my-what to-do-with-important-paper-phobia (fear of becoming an adult?). My husband’s help with this project has been better than roses and chocolates any day.

I was visiting my mom in Lancaster County, PA today, and I have to report: Love was in the air. And not just in the unfailingly loving person of my mom.

At almost every visit, I stop at a bakery called OCB Cakes, (Out of the Cake Box), in the town of Strasburg, for a cup of coffee and a few of the delectable treats they offer. The owners, at this point, feel like family. Like the Cheers bar, they know me by name, what days I usually come in, worry when I’m not there, and ask about my mom. They are the best. This is Joanna:

Right now she and her husband, Scott, are gearing up for Valentine’s Day. (So cute: two hearts buttoned together.)

I am endlessly fascinated by the Amish people who live in that area. Maybe especially today, coming out of my “terrible” time without electricity. Which brings me to kind of a love story that is most likely all in my imagination: I was uncharacteristically late to have lunch with my mom, and stopped at a Wawa for a sandwich, knowing I missed the time for ordering food in her dining room, but wanting to eat with her nonetheless. Wawa is a revered institution around here, a place for coffee, hoagies, free (no fee) ATM machines, gas, etc. The term convenience store does not really cover how much people love their Wawas.

I noticed a youngish Amish man at one of the touch-screens, ordering lunch, too. An Amish person at a computer is not something you see every day. He then asked the person behind the counter where [woman’s name] was. The clerk said, “Oh she works at a different location now,” to which the Amish man said, “If you see her, tell her I said ‘Hi’.”

(Photo, above, not mine.)

Well, I can’t help thinking and wondering about that exchange. How forbidden was it for him to be patronizing a Wawa? How often had he visited to know the missing clerk by name? What were his intentions toward her? How forbidden is it to have feelings for an “English” (non-Amish) woman? The questions and unfounded assumptions swimming in my head about this poor man had no end. Too much People magazine reading, perchance?

One thing about our recent camp-outage: my husband and I were stripped of so many of our usual electronic distractions. It was a bit of a test of whether we still like each other after all this time and the arrival, nurture, and exodus of three kids. As my husband and I were walking around in our dark house the other day, holding lanterns, the sound of our next-door neighbor’s generator was buzzing like a lawn mower on continuous idle. I said “Ah, the [neighbor’s last name]’s generator.” To which my husband responded, “Yeah, more power to them.”

Two of the characteristics I’ll always cherish about my beloved: a quick wit and a kind and generous heart.

February 7, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Power Out and On

Clumps #146, 147 & 148: Clear three piles of paper clutter from study floor.

I’ve been out of communication for three days! We had a bad ice and freezing rain storm Tuesday night, causing a power outage that lasted until this afternoon, Friday. It was like living in a snow globe … a beautiful but lonely winter scene. And here I had made such a big to-do about my Flippin February Paper Pile Purge, wherein I honor my younger daughter’s gift of having sorted all our problem papers into what, miraculously, turned into 28 piles. One for each day in the month of February.

But I did clear the promised three clumps. I have to resist chastising myself for how small they are. I’m beginning to realize that this is the point: small clumps, confronted and cleared every day, make for non-dreadful tasks. What’s more, they actually go away. Here’s the before:

And after, what wasn’t shredded or filed ready to go out in the recycling bag (a corner turned!):

In a recent post about our last big snow storm, I included this photo of river birches, taken from our house:

Here was the same view Wednesday morning of the poor, stressed trees:

We were actually quite lucky that our trees didn’t suffer as badly as many in the area. Even the ones pictured above look much better now.

As heavy as the ice was, it was also beautiful.

And we were lucky to have a gas stove in the basement to keep us cozy. I was able to make tea, thank the Lord. Here is my husband mixing up some hot chocolate for us, with cell phone in hand, one of his must-haves:

I also had two new good books that, with all the time in the world, I was able to finish, each in a day. What a luxury.

My three little clumps were easy to dispatch. I found I could keep to the program without disturbing a quiet time that I still got to devote to tea and reading by the fire.

February 4, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Cut-outs and Cut-ups

Clump #145: Clear pile of comic and quotation clippings.

Pile numero cuatro in the Flippin February Paper Pile Purge. Another relatively small one, and enjoyable to revisit … but difficult to part with. My husband or I either clipped them out of the newspaper or, in the case of the one on the top, saved the calendar page. What now?

The ones I’m responsible for were doubly funny in that they reflect the situation addressed in this here blog. The Cathy comic strip is yellowed from age (2004 or 2009 ?), and looks like it was hanging up somewhere to remind me to get rid of documents. Though they’re still dear to me, I’m ready to toss them.

I had to tape together this Zits comic strip (which my son could have written) with three quotes from the Cryptoquote puzzle in my little notebook of thoughts and inspirations. Interesting how similar the advice is from the Buddha, Charles Simmons, and Saint Francis of Assisi.

This one made the “cut,” also:

My husband wanted to bring a Dilbert comic he had cut out long ago to work . Ready to go:

In the spirit of comic relief, I was visiting my mom today and, as usual, found evidence of creative people in the town of Strasburg, PA.

The lighting on this snow-maid was not the best, but her colorful crown of flowers was something to behold. Think Spring!

And then there was a whole beach scenario in another yard. A man being hunted by sharks:

A woman screaming for help, as she watches him:

A surfer snow-dude:

Possibly a marimba-playing snow musician:

Impressing this snow-sun-goddess?

So, back to business. These are the ones I am parting with, with fond appreciation for the smiles they gave me.

Like the snow-people getting us through a long winter, they had their moment in the sun.

February 4, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

White Out

Clump # 144: Clear out little pile number 3 of 28; shovel big clumps of snow.

Okay, I admit: the clump today was laughably small for my Flippin February Paper Pile Purge. Not quite qualifying as a “pile,” it was several papers our younger daughter had sorted together as a favor to me in January; they all pertained to my husband’s credit card. He took a look at them and declared that they should all be shredded. Done.

The big clumps we cleared today were a different type of white stuff clogging our world:

Boulder-size clumps of snow.

This was our eleventh snowfall of the season … with more arriving imminently.

We haven’t gotten so sick of it yet that we take for granted the marvelous beauty it bestows on the landscape.

Even from indoors.

Right now (before we go snow-crazy), the snow is teaching me a lesson in my quest to eradicate our problem paper: small things done consistently can really add up to a big thing.

Like the clearing away of one little pile after another.

February 3, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Super Pile II

Clump #143: Paper Pile II.

Before the big game today, my husband helped me crush the second of 28 piles of paper … in the Flippin February Paper Pile Purge.

I told him he could pick any of the 27 remaining piles. He went for a monster: the pile of insurance papers … old, new, and in-between. It took time and scrutiny to determine which papers to toss, shred, or keep.

This is just the type of sorting I dread. We had to revisit traumatic memories of water damage to our house.

Apparently our peace of mind had not been completely restored.

He even cleared out the file and signed up online for electronic records from now on. My hero!

And — what a surprise! — I have an apt magazine photo to share. According to this Feng Shui diagram from an issue of Real Simple, the study I keep shuffling paper piles back into, the relapse room, is in the area of the house representing Friends and Travel. An interesting experiment might be to notice any influx of good vibes in friendships or travel at the end of this project.

I did travel recently, to Chicago, but it was during a record cold spell. I could relate to these pigeons huddled as tightly as possible out on the train station trying to conserve heat.

It was not much better at home in Pennsylvania.

Sending warm thoughts to you to melt away your winter chills.

February 1, 2014February 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Starting Is Seventy Percent

Clump #142: Begin Flippin February Paper Pile Purge. (As in, I just want to flip the calendar page over and make it March.)

A friend described a conversation he once had with a brilliant guy who worked for NASA. One concept the guy talked about stayed with him: to launch a space ship, you are essentially lifting a sky scraper off the ground and into the air. Who would ever think such a thing possible?! It takes a tremendous amount of fuel, most of the ship’s weight, to accomplish the flight … and seventy percent of it is required for just the first three inches. Good thing to remember whenever I am starting something, especially something I’m pulling against like gravity on a sky scraper.

An example would be getting back to blogging yesterday. When I am not blogging daily, I really get to a place where I forget what it’s like; I have no confidence in my ability to put thoughts together and I realize how audacious it is to think that people might care.

Here’s the fuel I used to get moving yesterday: a timer set for fifteen minutes and People Magazine as a reward for sticking out the fifteen minutes (my version of three inches). I know I have a problem with magazines and should be in a 12-step program, but there are worse vices.

Now, an aside here: Give. Me. A. Break. Christie. Brinkley. A mom of three? Sixty? What unrealistic expectations you are inflicting upon woman-kind … this is not progress!

The article surrounding the unbelievable photos ends with Ms. Brinkley saying, “Even when I’ll be sitting here with gray hair and Georgia O’Keeffe wrinkles, people are going to say, ‘There is just something youthful about her.'” Youth above all! Let me just say that we need more pictures of beautiful older women like Georgia O’Keeffe on magazine covers. As much as it is a feat worthy of NASA to defy gravity and age, the way Christie Brinkley has ( and it’s so totally not a case of sour grapes, of course), I sense a feeling of desperation in a woman who has to forever live up to her 1979 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue cover.

Artist Georgia O’Keeffe had her share of sexy photos, notably ones, like this one below, taken by photographer Alfred Stieglitz.

I will be very surprised if we ever see a former super model photographed with deep wrinkles like these.

Okay, back to the point of this post. I made a claim to process, purge, expunge a pile a day of paper in our house every day in February. I took a count of the piles my younger daughter so generously sorted for me, and … (drum-roll) … there are exactly 28! I’m not kidding.

Pile number one: vanquished. I’ll leave you with a much more pleasing sight, a sample of Georgia O’Keeffe’s art:

(By the way, if you Google “Georgia O’Keefe Art Images,” be prepared for a riot of color and sexy forms, perfect for a drab Winter’s day.)

January 12, 2014 by clumpaday

Mail Crawl

Clump #140: Eliminate old mail in basket.

The photo below was not taken today, but it approximates the speed with which my husband goes through a clump of mail when asked nicely. I must own up: this is the second time I’ve posted about trying to establish a basket as our method of organizing mail. I had had such visions of domestic bliss when we would finally tame the day’s (or even week’s) mail on a regular basis … no tearing the house apart for that one VIP (very important paper) … birds and bunnies frolicking around us as I sing …

Sorry, back on track. Before the big holiday clean-up, said basket got jumbled together with all the other paper clutter and fell into the dark void of our closet. Ha! I just read that over, and notice how, with the passive voice, I removed myself from the equation as though that darned basket had just gone rogue!

So this is mail focus, take two … nipping it in the bud before it turns into a clump.

So much plastic … ugh. After shredding the protect-our-identity paper, these were next. Coupons, cards … be gone!

Out of all that, just two pieces of paper were deemed worthy of filing.

Now the basket is ready for the next mail drop, as inevitable as the next poinsettia leaf drop.

I think I do hear the birds singing now!

January 11, 2014 by clumpaday

The Value of Time (and Sweaters)

Clump #139: Another half hour of paper purging.

This is proof that you can fit thirty minutes of de-clumping in a day, even while on an emotional roller coaster. Before going to visit my mom again, I felt I should honor the gift of paper-sorting my younger daughter gave me (yesterday’s post). Timer at the ready, set, go!

I keep remembering a nice, neat woman of a more advanced age who was sitting with me for a little while in the hospital lounge. She spent the time cutting and trimming sewing pattern pieces. I mentioned that her task brought back memories, as I remembered that particular job to be a tedious one (when you just want to get started sewing). She said, “Well, I just hate to waste any time. Especially when you’re my age and you know you don’t have much time left.” So, honoring my own precious time and my daughters, I got to work on a big pile of newspapers.

I cut out the Sudoku puzzles for my husband.

Getting through the newspapers has become a bigger project lately. My husband recently received a subscription to The Wall Street Journal with hotel points, adding to our usual Philadelphia Inquirer subscription. I’m amazed by the different level of spending reflected in its pages. For example, its real estate section is called “Mansions.” The lead-up to the holidays involved the usual lists of gift ideas, but with jaw-dropping prices. I’m definitely not their targeted demographic. And then there was this article on the two thousand dollar sweater. What?!? I know there is no law against charging or spending two thousand dollars for a sweater, but I find it absolutely obscene. Okay, before I start foaming at the mouth, I will let go of this issue and this paper.

The good thing about purging papers in a time of stress and worry is that everything seems so trivial. I was left with a very small pile that I might find enjoyable to peruse later … newspaper reading as a reward.

For now, it’s out again into the gloomy weather …

made brighter by the promise of a good read and a cup of tea when I return, and a small sense of accomplishment.

January 11, 2014 by clumpaday

Paper Piling Present

Clump #138: Power half-hour of paper purging.

I came home after a long day today to an amazing surprise. My younger daughter had taken all of the paper in my anxiety closet and had sorted it out into logical categories. Magazines; recipes; newspapers; charitable donations; coupons; etc.; etc. Our cat, Pumpkin, was all tired out just watching her:

This was a really, really huge job. (Sorry for the poor photos.)

I used this kitchen timer to blast through a half-hour’s worth of it.

The recycling bag below needed taping after bursting open.

This seems like the proper time to dig out a photo of an old magazine illustration I took last winter at the Brandywine River Museum. I share it with the warning that a museum docent later told me photos of the artwork were not allowed, even without flash.

Was the presence of so much paper the sign of an important man? Did the paper have anything to do with the story? In any case, I had never felt so akin to the father of our country.

Here is the description of the illustration:

The Brandywine River Museum, in Chadds Ford, PA, “Presents the work of three generations of Wyeths and a collection of American illustration, still life and landscape paintings.” It is a beautiful place.

True to the character of the area, with an artist’s sensibility.

Even the trees were painting self-portraits outside. Seeing famous Andrew Wyeth paintings up-close and original was a thrill …

But nothing like the thrill of my daughter’s gift to me today: making manageable my worst clutter nemesis.

Clump A Day

postcards from the clogosphere

Tag / Paper Clutter