Tag / Photos

by clumpaday

Two Hundred Clumps and Two Quotes

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Clump #200:  Sort out small bag of toys; take a big batch of stuff to the Goodwill.

I didn’t really see this coming, but — hey — 200 clumps!  I always feel as though there should be a balloon drop at times like this, but I’ll settle for a leaf drop with rain drops, seasonally appropriate or not.

I sent the photo below to our son, who said all he wanted to keep of the “games, etc.” pile was the kite and the Knot Tying kit.  I packed the rest up with a bunch of other items designated “give-away,” and gave them away.

I stumbled across this quote today and it seemed highly appropriate to the challenge:

“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.” –Confucius

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It’s been a learning experience trying to anticipate what will be kept (knot tying kit?).  The things we keep tell a story about ourselves.  Going through our son’s books told a story of a musician with very deep thoughts and an appreciation of humor.  I hadn’t remembered the book pictured below.

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I flipped through its pages and this quote stopped me in my tracks:

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Sending the power of love to you.

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by clumpaday

Study Purge, Take Three

 

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Clump #199:  Clear out accumulation of clutter in study; throw out Christmas flowers.  (Yes, that’s Christmas flowers … stay with me.)

The study … you know, the subject of several previous clearings and relapses?  This week it was the receptacle for sorted piles from our son’s room.  Oops … I did it again.

Three non-family members visited today, two repairmen and a friend. Wouldn’t you know both visits required time in this cluttered study, the least picked-up room in the house?  Groan!  I decided to rid the room — again — of all the piles.

First up: the exploded bag of shredded paper.  Ugh.

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The day before yesterday was Earth Day and I’d picked up this hand-decorated bag at a local grocery store.  Good tips!

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It heroically contained the mealworm-like paper shreds and saved both the corner of the study and my temper.

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Funny how the presence of outsiders makes you see things you can’t believe you’ve let go.  Case in point: a pot of paperwhite bulbs given to us at Christmastime.  I guess I was so grateful for their promise of spring, fragrance, and life, even when dried out.  Out they go.  The pot is soaking in water with white vinegar, which will clean it right up.

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Also going out, the poinsettia.  I’m tired of the dropping leaves, even as beautiful and shell-like as they are. (Photo taken on the top of the stove.)

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It’s daffodil and tulip time now, after all.

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by clumpaday

Facing Technology Fears

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Clump #198:  Sort through bag of gadgets in the 30-day, 30-post Bedroom Blast Challenge: clear out son’s room before he returns … soon!

Not that anyone would necessarily notice, but I’m clearing out the pile labeled “Technology 2” before “Technology 1.”  Why?  Well this was the less scary of the two technology piles — scary, in this case, referring to my anxiety while facing an array of gadgets I can barely identify:

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I noticed that the Easter hen was positioned as if watching the sorting process (“keep” on right, “recycle” on left).  She, with all her eggs gone, was an apt symbol for my bereft state, recovering from the final exodus of our holiday guests.  From this lonely place, out of the blue, came a phone call from our son, who was ready to help with another clump. The perfect antidote!

What followed was a technophobic mother trying to describe different gadgets and gizmos to a techno-savvy son: “Well, it’s a black cord.”  “Is it a guitar cord?”  “What does a guitar cord look like?” … Good grief!  It was like the blind leading the sighted.  But we got through it.

This was the sky tonight on my way home from doing an errand:

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Light in the darkness.

by clumpaday

The Road to Hell is Paved with Unsent Cards

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Clump #197:  Write and send two procrastinated cards.

Scheduling a Skype session with our son didn’t work out today, so I turned my attention away from his closet for today’s task.  I took care of a clump of small size but heavy psychic weight: two cards I had bought but had not gotten around to sending out.  One condolence, the other, get well.

I’ve developed a new view on the saying, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”  The hell is a state of mind you develop right here on earth.  The more time slipped away, the worse I felt … to the point that every time I looked at these two cards, the guilt was deeper and more dreadful. Continue reading →

by clumpaday

Now You See It…

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Clump #196: Sort son’s shoe collection; day 21 of the 30-day, 30-post Bedroom Blast Challenge.

Simple, straightforward and swift was this clump.  Our son was able to eliminate three pairs from the remaining shoes in his room.  I put up his shoe holder and placed the keepers there.

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Done.

The beautiful eggs I documented in the last few posts are now just a memory.  I took this photo right before clearing and cleaning the plate.

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It brought to mind Buddhist sand art.   While googling the images below, I found this description on Wikipedia:

“The Sand Mandala is a Tibetan Buddhist tradition involving the creation and destruction of mandalas made from colored sand.  A sand mandala is ritualistically destroyed once it has been completed and its accompanying ceremonies and viewing are finished to symbolize the Buddhist doctrinal belief in the transitory nature of material life.”

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This, in turn, brought to mind some flowers I’d photographed at the dentist’s a few weeks ago…

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One blossom looking finished, the next in transition:

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Enjoy me now!

by clumpaday

Ears, Eggs, and Ephemera

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Clump #195: Clear two bags from son’s room via Skype.

Our son Skyped with us from Norway today.  He and I got through a clump, then I turned the reins over to our younger daughter and youngest niece.  My younger daughter was the one who initially sorted his stuff into piles by subject matter.  As she took over the process, she said, “It’s so nice to see my clumps realized!”

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Continue reading →

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Holiday Happenings

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Clump #194:  Prepare for Easter.

I was feeling down in the dumps this morning when I was ordering corned beef and swiss cheese at the deli for ruben sandwiches.  The clerk kept asking me question after question: “Is this the right thickness?”  “Would you like to eat this slice?”  Much more solicitous than usual.  I kept feeling as though he sensed my funky state of mind and wanted to help.  Finally, as I was about to leave the counter, he asked, “Do you celebrate Easter?”  I said, “Yes,” to which he responded “I hope you have a Happy Easter.”  I was touched by his sensitivity.

In our family we hold a jelly bean hunt Easter morning.  This was a collection artfully arranged last year:

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I just found a photo of unknown date that I took, of course, before I became perfect and would never have dust bunnies on my floors.  But, honestly, I did not touch or alter this little guy.

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The air right now is redolent of clementines, my niece’s favorite:

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She’s gotten so good at peeling them, all in one piece … this one looks like a pumpkin.

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The eggs are dyed, the beans are laid, and my mom’s hen is calmly presiding over the scene.

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Whatever holiday you celebrate, I sincerely hope you have a happy one!

 

 

 

 

by clumpaday

Time and Tide

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Clump #192:  Save son’s note cards.

Today I have been acutely aware of the passage of time.  I found myself thinking how great it would be if the clock could stop when one sleeps. Time out?  No such luck.  Easter is quickly approaching and my to-do list is lengthening just as quickly.

I’m reposting the photo above of the beautiful band of spring crocuses I became infatuated with last week. This is what it looks like now:

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The beautiful flowers and their colors … are … Gone.

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All except one lonely daffodil, who seems to be saying, “Hey Guys, where’d you go?”

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I had trouble getting in touch with our son for a Skype decision-session. So I made an executive decision to put his note card collection in the “save” pile.  I gave him the Vincent Van Gogh ones.  I have been increasingly aware of an undercurrent of motherly nagging in the things I have given him.  “Clean your water bottle” (yesterday’s post), “Write thank you notes,”   “Read this book to better yourself.”

Parenthood is always a matter of treading a fine line.  The urge to nurture and make better can easily verge into the dangerous zone of : “who you are right now is not enough.”

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Even when all you want to do is give them is the sun, moon and stars.

by clumpaday

Sunlike Inspiration

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Clump #191: Sort through son’s remaining eating/drinking-ware from college.  Day sixteen of my 30-day, 30-post Bedroom Blast Challenge.

Over halfway through the challenge!  Today’s clump is an example of the glacially slow pace of this project.  Our industrious younger daughter dove in to start the job, organizing what had previously been stuffed into our overseas son’s bedroom when making space for overnight guests. She even labeled each pile.  Now what to do with it all?

The plastic cups and aluminum bottles will go in the recycling bin.  I gave him that box of cleaning tablets for metal water bottles … most likely one of my thrillingly practical stocking stuffers.  (Oh boy!  Just what I’ve always wanted!)  I happened to notice that they’re untouched.  They and the bowl and knife can either go in the Goodwill pile or hang out here with his other “keep” items.

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It’s small, tedious piles like this one that make me feel as though I’m not making any progress.  But the fact is, the room is clearing out.  Drip … drip … drip.

I drove to Lancaster County to see my mom today, and saw this:   So wrong!

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The poor, garbed goose of Strasburg was entirely unprepared for the cold snap.  She must have donned the floral number when temperatures were in the eighties.

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I chose to focus on fabulous forsythia, with flowers and stems like rays of sunshine.

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Sometimes my mom will say something so memorable, I have to write it down.  Her most frequent question is “What are the kids doing today?” About one daughter, she said, “This is her sunrise time.”

I relayed her comment to our daughter, and she loved it.  You don’t need to worry about or force the sunrise.  It’s inevitable.

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Inevitable as flowers in spring and warmth returning to the earth.  And, now, clutter leaving our home.