January 8, 2014 by clumpaday

30 Little Minutes

Clump #136: Just 30 minutes of paper.

Spending time in a hospital with my mom lately, I have watched a great deal of daytime television. I don’t recommend it. In the waiting area today, I noticed a metal plaque specifying “offensive” shows that should not be watched on the hospital TV, specifically Jerry Springer and Maury. It kind of amazed me that a metal plaque was ordered and was bolted to the wall for this purpose. Would they have to update it for new offensive shows to come? But I did come away with a good tip from Hoda and Kathie Lee, which must have been part of The Today Show. They were interviewing a man named Tommy Barnett who wrote a book called The Power of a Half Hour: Take Back Your Life Thirty Minutes at a Time.

I thought this might be a new way to look at my dreaded paper piles: a clump of a half-hour, instead of the physical pile. I have been avoiding the piles like crazy. I feel as if I’ll be swallowed up by the overwhelming number of decisions. So I set the timer for 30 minutes and dove into the stuff that has been neglected on the flat surfaces in the kitchen.

I can report that the finite-ness of the half hour made a huge difference. It freed me from the quicksand-like fear I have of paper clutter. Left to right, below: lovely holiday cards that filtered in recently; shred pile; and recycle pile. (Believe you can …)

I decree it is not too late to put cards in the tree-shaped holder and think warm thoughts about the people who sent them.

What’s left? Catalogs I’ll love to savor, off the clock, and a pile that needs husband consultation.

We could most likely get through it in less than a half hour.

Warm wishes for actual warmth in your world on this cold, cold day.

December 29, 2013December 29, 2013 by clumpaday

Drowning in Paper

Clump #131: Clear second paper pile from bedroom closet.

Another pile bites the dust … or shakes it off in the recycling bag. I tried to glean as much as I could from the magazine on top, Real Simple (funny how yesterday’s pile had another issue of the same magazine on top), before tossing it out.

But amidst all the great tips, fashion, and recipes, the best part, for me, was this quote in the table of contents:

I love the length of the to-do list pictured above. My master Christmas list was in this clump of paper. I feel like playing taps on a bugle in honor of its service to me.

A gloomy, rainy, gray day here. Good for going through neglected newspapers and magazines and letting the tea kettle flow. Pretty sad that our guests are dropping away like leaves from the poinsettia.

There is a certain magic to a rainy day.

A reminder to take the rain with the sun.

Weather, like Christmas, is not perfectly managed.

December 28, 2013 by clumpaday

The Paper Trail

Clump # 130: Start clearing out paper piles in closet.

I, or really our house, fell victim to my chronic paper-shuffle-before-company-comes syndrome. Again. Before our Christmas festivities I moved the piles from the study to our bedroom closet … my anxiety closet. If I were to give tips for hopeless housekeepers, like myself, I would say: make sure a beautiful magazine cover is on top of your anxiety closet pile. So much more enjoyable to slip and stumble over orchids and smooth river stones, emblazoned with the words, “The Balanced Life.”

This project might take a few days of concerted effort. Here is a calendar for 2013. We left off in April. I recycled the pages and the plastic holder.

One spot of clearness. A tiny bit of balance restored.

Possibly because I had paper on the brain today, I was conscious of trees, specifically evergreens. This little sprout stole my heart. It seemed in need of protection, like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

And, below, a dress I passed by in a consignment store, giving new meaning to the phrase “all decked out.”

I had to go in, just to try for a better shot. Here’s the dress’s view of the street:

As I passed by trees in this more urban environment, I felt a sense of awe for their endurance, and again, protectiveness …

while at the same time plotting a virtual clear-cutting of the forest of paper in my closet.

October 5, 2013October 6, 2013 by clumpaday

Let Me Get This Off My Chest

Clump #63: Clear papers and books from family room chest.

Below is the chest I had in mind (or what’s underneath): the repository of previous paper purging projects. (Alliteration!) Aack!! So many homeless items in need of decisions.

Getting rid of our excess paper, for me, is like the children’s story, The Cat In The Hat Comes Back, by Dr. Seuss. What can go wrong with such a friendly-looking fellow? (The Cat representing paper in this analogy.) Come on into the house!

For those who don’t remember, the good, hard-working brother and sister of the story are left alone, shoveling snow. Trouble starts when The Cat takes a bath while eating cake. Ah, that pretty, benign-looking pink frosting leaves a pink ring around the tub. No problem, The Cat assures the worried children, he can easily get it off.

“Do you know how he did it? / WITH MOTHER’S WHITE DRESS! /Now the tub was all clean, /But her dress was a mess!”
Out, out, damn spot! Oops, that’s a different story. Since I was a kid, I’ve never lost the “Mother-will-come-home-and-we’ll-be-in trouble” anxiety this tale so effectively creates.

The persistent pink stain went from the tub to the dress, to the wall, to Dad’s shoes, to the carpet, the bed, ….

Well, I won’t spoil the ending. My point is that the eradication of long-neglected papers feels as dispiriting and futile as The Cat’s stubborn pink spot removal. From the study, to the floor, to the chest … each time getting smaller and smaller, but still there.

My very own, personal, paper trail of white. Will it ever be permanently put out of sight??

And — ah, I can breath again — the after photo. Mothers and others may now enter our home.

When (not if) I get down to the end of the papers, I will have to have cake in the tub, with pink icing, to celebrate!

October 2, 2013October 3, 2013 by clumpaday

Perplexing Papers

Clump #62: Organize stubborn paper before filing or shredding.

The September 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge was deeply rewarding. I built up a momentum I had been missing in the clumping project and in this blog. I probably couldn’t have maintained it without the help of my older daughter, who has been a dedicated proof-reader and enthusiastic cheerleader.

Here she is this summer, looking out for rocks and other obstacles in a shallow channel between two lakes in Minnesota. In the same way, she has saved me from writing collisions like dessert for desert — spell-check wouldn’t have warned me — and poor sentence construction that would have led one to believe we keep my mom outside on a patio.

So what next? I would really like to keep the pace going. Before the September challenge, not blogging felt more natural than blogging; so easy to let it slip. Now the opposite is true. So I’ll keep going, without feeling badly when I skip a day here and there.

And now to the clump. This has been a slog. I wanted to include a picture of the soul-sucking Dementors from Harry Potter to illustrate its effect on me, but the images were too creepy. It’s as though all the stubborn paper — not easy to shred, recycle, or file — from other areas of the house spilled (I wanted to say vomited) into a pile in the family room.

The kitchen table is now filled with small piles of alphabetically arranged statements and other important-looking things, ready for a confab with my husband and a final ruling on what to do with them. A clump for another day!

Some things are impossible to let go of, like the Christmas card (below) sent to me by an old friend this year; it had been sent to her by my long-deceased sister. The friend was purging her own paper pile, and thought I’d appreciate the vote of confidence my sister had given to my then-boyfriend, now-husband in the written note. “I keep my fingers crossed!” she wrote.

Well, the floor in this room is looking a lot better now! The clumping continues. Thank you for being with me in spirit and in print!

September 17, 2013September 18, 2013 by clumpaday

Out of the Shadows

Clump #48: Rake through three bags of paper and recycle sandals.

It’s official. Summer is really over. My trusty sandals finally gave way. I have a problem with shoes: just when they start to look bad, they start to feel good. A friend, who once staged a shoe intervention for me, recently pointed out that one of these sandals was starting to split. I was unconcerned. Not even considering duct tape. But today the split was complete. The great thing is, they are completely recyclable, and tonight is trash night.

I had purchased them in a grocery store, but I just ordered a new pair online with free shipping (coupon code 2KUV95BA). The company’s name is OKABASHI; they’re made in the USA. These look a little worse for the wear, but I highly recommend them.

Also going out to the curb: the paper contents of the last three (now) benign-looking reusable shopping bags from the room of gloom.

So many credit card offers to dismantle! My pet peeve: the plastic that comes with them, and the goopy stuff used to glue them together.

I’m finally feeling a lifting of the shadows in the room formerly filled with sad memories and neglected clumps. My husband and I went out for a walk this evening and the idea of shadows was on my mind.

Shadows can be lovely.

We stopped on a bridge to look for fish in the stream, and I realized our shadows were in the spotlight.

September 11, 2013September 11, 2013 by clumpaday

Hallelujah

Clump #42: Buy new folders for piles of sheet music and instruction manuals.

The gratitude I felt today for the men who pick up our recycling was boundless. I was almost afraid to look when I approached the curb this afternoon … but all ten bags of paper were gone! Woo-hoo!

Now that I have done the machete-wielding job, the sorting and fine scalpel work remains. The sheet music below is one example. My family is a musical bunch. I am the designated audience member. Through the years we have amassed a collection of sheet music that wanders hither and yon. This is not usually a big problem until someone needs one piece in particular. Then the sorting through paper piles, scratching of heads, and tearing of hair ensues.

Every holiday season my husband, son, and two daughters sing a quartet of Coventry Carol for the Christmas music program at our Quaker meeting. And every year no one can find the sheet music. Somehow, by hook or by crook, the music is reprinted from some source at the last minute. This is not a peaceful, holiday scene. The resulting performance is always one that brings tears to the eyes. Now I will be able to easily locate the sheet music and can contribute to the effort, not to mention the general holiday cheer.

I went to Target today and bought two expanding files. I was thinking it would be great to find one with musical notes on it. Aren’t these whole notes?

The other big bunch of paper I needed to corral was a stack of instruction manuals for various appliances and other purchases. Again, not something you need very often, but when you really need one of them, SO annoying not to know where in heaven’s name it is.

And now this pile’s new home — voila:

Today’s crossword puzzle included a quote by Shakti Gawain: “Problems are messages.” So simple. So profound. One of the little slips of paper I just taped in my idea book was from a fortune cookie: “No problem leaves you where you found it.” I’m going to do some deep thinking about the messages contained in my problems. Something about self-sabotage as a misguided form of protection. But today, I feel like I am finally breaking free from a paper chrysalis.

September 10, 2013September 11, 2013 by clumpaday

Ten Bags Full

Clump #41: Put out ten bags of paper.

I don’t know whether I am capable of putting two words together. I just put TEN BAGS of paper out on the curb for recycling tomorrow morning. My fingers are raw and my brain is numb. We might look back on this time as the great paper purge of ’13.

Yes, I still have a mammoth pile left over, waiting to be sorted out. Some papers, like this one, I will definitely keep. It’s an assignment my older daughter wrote when she was in elementary school:

3 Lessons I learned from Rachel Carson

1. If you don’t give up with something, you’ll get it sometime.

2. You don’t have to be bold to make great achiefments. [sic]

3. Just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t do something.

I didn’t want to give up today. I even played the Disney movie Mulan, a special favorite of this same daughter. The song I’ll make a Man out of You, sung by Donny Osmond, is a great motivational song. It worked.

I was appreciative of this (unfortunately blurry) logo on Lands’ End catalogs. I felt as though I had felled a forest.

Let’s get down to business — to defeat the Huns (or Clumps). Huah!

September 8, 2013September 8, 2013 by clumpaday

Let It Flow

Clump #39: Finish declumping inner pile.

I finally sat down for a tete a tete with my husband about the pile within the pile of yesterday. I’m usually reluctant to bug him about such things, as he often has a work project needing his focus. But today we got through it. And it really didn’t take too long at all. Let us remember this lesson. It was even easily done while watching football. The killer beach bag contained papers dating from 2007! Oy. I kid you not:

Two piles of shreddables:

Turned into this: (Again, the contents look much smaller when photographed from this angle.) (It’s really a lot!)

I once bought something from this adorable catalog for young nieces and nephews, but my pajamas-for-Christmas idea has long since grown stale as they have grown older. I tried to call the company to take my name off their mailing list, but they are not open on Sundays. I’ll do it tomorrow. Maybe some day, when the time and the chosen spouse is right, we will be lucky enough to have grandchildren. Until then, I have a question:

If a tree in a forest does not have to fall down to make catalogs, how big a clump does that save?

My husband and I got away from our clumps and went for a walk on this gorgeous day. Could we just please hit the pause button on the weather right now? Here he is walking ahead while I had to try to capture the light and blue sky reflected in water.

The message I’m hearing is that the paper and clutter in our house need to flow like the water in a stream. Let it go … let it flow.

September 4, 2013September 5, 2013 by clumpaday

I am sick of stepping over Fiona Apple

Clump #35: Remove and empty basket from clothes closet and set up new mail system.

Day four of my 30-day, 30-clump, 30-post challenge. Can I do it? Tune in and see!

I’m sorry, Fiona Apple, neither you nor I deserve this. A basket of random clutter, swept together into the closet when company was on its way and long neglected. My son subscribed to Billboard magazine, and this copy happened to be stuck on top. Dated June 23, 2012. Hey, there’s my slipper, too.

Once I finally confronted it, the clump was pretty easy to dispatch. Below: a good organizational tool! Why was Fiona hiding it?

Another dump-able old thing.

I’ve asked my son, who is overseas for a year, whether I could toss his music industry magazines. He said there were some articles he wanted to hang onto. Where in the world could he have gotten this tendency? So I put Fiona in his room. Imagine something like Sunday’s Zits comic strip, below. Ah, like mother, like son.

I found this clipping, a Cryptoquote, in the pile: “To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it.” –Kurt Vonnegut I taped it in my little book of ideas and inspirations.

When all cleared out, the basket was a handsome thing again. I thought I could use it for an in-box for the week’s mail. Maybe my husband and I could mix up some gin and tonics and have a regular mail-sort-through, if not every day, once a week? After all, the root of our paper problem comes in every day from the mailbox. (I can hear Kurt Vonnegut saying, “So do it.” This might be my favorite line of all time.)

On a lighter and prettier note, I have been seeing butterflies everywhere. Is it just me, or the season? Such a potent symbol of change. To transform from a dull, bumbling, many-footed creature to a multicolored, flying sylph is an everyday miracle.

This plant was at an Amish farm stand where I stopped today on the way home from visiting my mother. Multiply the one pictured by about ten — yellow butterflies were fluttering all over it, as if the flower centers offered secret messages for yellow-winged things:

Yesterday I saw something dark at a distance in the grass, which turned out to be a butterfly.

The closer I got, the more colors I could see.

And, when open, the wings looked like this:

Butterflies are telling me vividly and beautifully: change is possible. And so it goes.

Clump A Day

postcards from the clogosphere

Tag / Paper Clutter