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.

January 9, 2014 by clumpaday

Family Tree

Clump #137: Take Christmas tree out to the curb for recycling and put away Christmas decorations.

Being at the hospital with my mom every day has been draining. I realize I am putting off the paper clumping that I wrote about in my last post. If a tree falls in a house because it is curbside pick-up day, does it still qualify as a clump? Probably not. A clump should be something I wouldn’t be doing as business as usual. I’m allowing myself a day of denial before I revisit the procrastinated paper trail tomorrow.

I’m not ready! This is what happens when you put off getting a tree until right before Christmas. Ready or not, we bid the fine specimen farewell tonight with gratitude for its beauty and stately grandeur. At least at this [too] early date, our younger daughter is here to help with the putting away of the decorations.

And out the door it goes, with a small, fake, fiber optic tree looking on. (Don’t look so smug … you’re going back in the box next.)

Then all the decorations just seemed wrong, still hanging around.

So long until next year.

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.

January 6, 2014 by clumpaday

Life is Short

Clump #135: Return to the world of blogging.

My mom recently suffered a health crisis, so I have spent the last couple of days in a hospital. Most importantly, for now, she seems improved. Thank you to all the compassionate and generous people who have been holding her and us in the Light.

Below is the coffee cup for Caribou Coffee served in the hospital cafeteria. Thanks, Caribou, for your deep slogan, though a hospital setting is lesson enough in the shortness of life.

I was thinking of a dear friend whose mother, after her own health crisis, said “I never realized how much we loved each other.” Sometimes it takes the specter of loss to awaken us to what we have.

This was the view of the sunset last night from my car window on the way home from the hospital.

In the light of profound emotions, this blog and clumping fell away completely. But it’s good to be back.

January 3, 2014 by clumpaday

Storm-Related Clumps

Clump #134: Shovel big snow.

The brave little tree of yesterday’s post was no match for Storm Hercules.

I confess to loving snow days. I’m like a young kid when everything is shut down and we have to stay put.

Thanks to my younger daughter, we got through the Herculean task:

With moral support from a neighbor’s dog.

Wasn’t it only yesterday that the clumps were made of leaves?

My older daughter questioned whether shoveling snow qualified as a Clump A Day clump. She did have a point. I will mull over a workable definition after resting my tender back and drinking copious amounts of tea.

In the meantime, I hope you are warm, safe, and enjoying a respite from the daily grind.

January 2, 2014December 23, 2014 by clumpaday

Lights Off, Snow On

Clump #133: Take down outdoor Christmas lights.

Now that I’m in year two of Clump A Day, I find myself wondering, have I changed? Has this enterprise been worthwhile? Today’s clump offers a little hope: according to this blog, I know that last year I was taking down Christmas lights at the same time I was putting up a Valentine’s Day wreath. Thanks to my husband’s forethought, we took them down today, just before the big snowstorm blew into town.

Our high-tech method to reach the lights up high:

We wrap the strings of lights on rolled-up magazines or catalogs. The timer (lower right) and three-pronged plug are thrown in the same box. I can’t tell you how many times those things have gotten separated from the lights … enough to drive a person crazy! A big success in a tiny little action.

Our little tree from the forty percent off sale for procrastinators:

And here it is just minutes ago, naturally decorated with the promised snow (we planned ahead! we did it!):

In other news, the most fashionable goose in Strasburg, PA was bundled up for the storm. Possibly the first piece in the avian couture line to have arms/hands/wing tips?

I was agog. Our family doing something proactively, and now this … what next?

January 2, 2014January 2, 2014 by clumpaday

One Year Anniversary of Clump A Day

Clump #132: Clear out old newspapers.

In the rush, rush, crush of the holidays I didn’t have time for reading the newspaper, something I’m normally addicted to. So going through this pile quickly was difficult. I couldn’t peruse each section the way I normally do, but off they go into the recycling. Here’s the thing: news should be new.

On a brighter note, Hey! This is the one-year anniversary of this here blog!! I’m imagining Clump A Day-type confetti:

A ball drop:

Dancing (don’t these trees look like they are dancing, like the three graces?):

And bubbles!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has been supporting me in spirit through all the clumps.

You can not imagine how much it has meant to me!

January 1, 2014 by clumpaday

Trivial But Weighty

I’ve been ruminating some more about why, with all my early planning of holiday tasks, I still felt like I was hit by a truck in the final stretch of Christmas. With most of my family and friends, I know my budget, find an item, and call it a gift. But when it comes to shopping for my kids, there seems never to be an end to the list of potential gifts. I know I’m responsible for drawing the line, but I feel like I’m never done. Here’s a story to illustrate:

As mentioned earlier, one of the traditional stocking stuffers my kids can expect is a small box of Ticonderoga pencils. Something about having plenty of pencils makes me, as a mother, happy and my kids, if not happy, then well-equipped. There were only three boxes in the store when I was there to print the holiday newsletter — fine, because only three stockings would be hung by the fire with care this year (our two daughters and our youngest niece). I was being very careful about not bulking up the bunch of presents to send overseas with my son’s friends, so I thought, “Okay, this year he won’t have the pencils.” But I just couldn’t let it go. “They’re not very large, or heavy,” I reasoned. “Does he even have a pencil sharpener there?” “They’re only pencils, I’m sure they have them in Norway.” “And the kids are probably humoring me by enjoying the gift.” “But it’s our tradition, and he’s away from home for the first Christmas in his life.” “I’m such a basket case for obsessing about such a trivial thing!” “Stop it!” I finally made another trip to an office supply store to get the darn things, and a small, plastic sharpener, to boot. (Not so “easy” after all.)

Here is a picture taken earlier this season, when the snow was fresh and fluffy. I felt like the gremlin with way too much on my mind:

Christmas finally came and went, and the friends brought my son’s gifts to Norway. The TSA did force them to unwrap them (all my work!). I received a very nice thank you email from our son, with the final sentence, “I was also maybe a little too excited about the pencil sharpener, since I’ve been going between increasingly dull pencils I collected.”

Ah, instinct won over reason, and all was well. I will never be a Martha Stewart, with an iron-clad organizational plan. But that’s A Good Thing for me.

Warmest wishes to you for ringing in the New Year with love and good cheer!

Clump A Day

postcards from the clogosphere

Tag / Photos