Clearing Space 365 Days

I've signed on to the 365 Days project on Flickr. That means I've been taking (and posting) a self portrait every day. I started on January 1st, and I haven't missed a day so far.

Each day, I take anywhere from three to thirty or more self portraits. (I don't take hundreds because I do not have that kind of time!) I then pare down the selection to one or two "best" images to post on Flickr. This leaves me with hundreds of "out takes" every week. And how many thousands of images can fit onto my camera chip? Lots? Oh, dear.


It's a challenge to keep up with the daily selfie, yeah, but it's even more challenging to deal with the flow of spare images. It's relentless. I delete, delete, delete as I go, or at least a couple times a week.

It turns out this project is as much about daily space clearing as it is about creating a daily self portrait. I shoot, I edit, I pick the shot of the day and upload to Flickr, and it's Buh-Bye to the rest of the remaining shots. I like that once I make my choice, I have no obligation to hang onto extras.

Does that image ever need to see the light of day? No? Delete! Is it the lesser of the group? Yes? Delete! Does it duplicate fifteen, I mean fifty other images that are equally imperfect? Yes? Delete!

Just as in the rest of my life, there's no need to hang on to extraneous files, wishing that they were different/better or thinking that if only I had enough hours in the day to spend with Photoshop, I could massage it into something interesting or useful...some day. Noooo! DELETE!

On a related note, my mother (in the throes of her own decluttering) just offered me some of my dad's mustache hair from when he first started growing it when I was a baby. No, I don't think so. But it's red, she said. It would be interesting to look back on it and compare colors. Don't you think the little girl would want to see it when she gets older? Not really. I can't be a museum for what was or might have been. Delete!

As in photography so as in the rest of my life. Pick what you really want to include in your life, and get rid of the rest. Delete, delete, delete!
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FlyLady Report - mid Nov edition

I've been cooking, doing the daily jobs like laundry and dishes, doing my swish-n-swipe in the bathroom (well mostly), or at least cleaning up after the cats.

I mopped the kitchen floor. I swept. I threw out an old chair I had hoped to renovate but has been rotting on my porch instead. Chair, begone! I recycled the box my cherry tree came in... last Spring. I raked leaves and mulched a little. I threw out random bits of detritus like a plastic water bottle next to my bed and clothing tags.

I finally packed up clothes I've been meaning to get out of the house.

First my old over-sized jeans and my hub's oversized shirt he'll never wear, then that blouse/skirt combo that has nice colors, but that I'll never wear again because it's not the style I want to be. Into the trunk it went to join the big bag of children's clothes I had decluttered earlier. And the box of shoes I haven't been able to donate.

Oh! And I bagged up the three pot lids that mysteriously do not have matching pots, AND the little pressure cooker my husband used to cook rice in as a bachelor. It was well-used, but it hasn't been used for more than ten years.

It was time to let all of it go, so on my way around town, I went by the Goodwill donation door and threw the whole mess into the cart without a backward glance. Go, me!

Special mention for my ability to let go of that box of nice shoes I can never wear again since my daughter expanded my feet. Dress shoes, really nice leather shoes, hiking boots - le sigh. NO, I will never take the time or effort to sell them, sorry, so into the cart it goes, too.

And that was that. No regrets, no backward glance. Just a big sigh of relief. Out of sight, off my mind.

A big Thanks! to Flylady for her constant inspiration and encouragement.

Wooo! Go, me!
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Right Number, Right Purpose, Right Place

The Unclutterer blog has a great post up contemplating a one-versus-many idea of possessions.

"In theory," he writes, "we only need one pair of scissors." But in practice, we find that it's more convenient to have multiple pairs for multiple purposes and in multiple locations. The comments have lots of fun discussion about how people like to purpose their scissors.

Yes, you can get by with only one, but more of one can be very convenient. Convenience is valuable too.

I am very happy to contemplate this idea that sometimes more is better, at least to the degree that you have what you need, when and where you need it.


I've also experienced a well put-together work bench or project station, and how beautifully it contributes to productivity.

For instance, one place and career I worked, I had my own station and my own set of tools, one of everything I needed. I could reach out almost without looking and grasp exactly what I needed. After I was done, I put everything back in its place, ready for the next job.

Sure, there were more than one of most things, and specialized tools for particular jobs. The specialized gear was located in a central location, each in its specified spot, so that any of us could retrieve and put away as necessary. Everyone had at least one of the more basic tools so that no one would have to hunt or trade off while in the middle of a project. Of course, some people had more than one of a thing, and the bosses regularly borrowed one, leaving it who-knows-where. (Cue the screams of frustration: aaaiiigh!) My coworkers were not so picky about the organization of their stations, but I would growl at anyone who tried to run off with my tools (before, not after, they might have lost it). I'd rather not to waste time thinking about tracking down each thing as I needed it.

I find that a similar approach at home keeps me happy there as well.

Over the years, I've steadily moved items to the location where they are most likely to be used. So things like my tape, stapler, stamps, scissors, pens, thumbdrive, etc are right there in front of me within arms reach. No need to "dig them out." Other office supplies are stored in descending order of need. The printer, address book, and screw driver only require that I stand up. I bend down when I have to retrieve more paper for the printer. Any electronics chargers are in the closet in their designated spot - no getting lost in some dark corner. Also in the closet is a modest but highly organized caddy that keeps everything from paperclips and extra pens to watercolors and craft tools. My massive canvas stapler and ink brayer are stashed waaaaay back in a box of art tools I might need in the next couple of decades.


So. Back to the scissors. Yes, I've got 'em.

Three pairs in the kitchen. One for general papercutting and mucki-muck use. A second for food-related cutting tasks, such as cutting open a package of cheese or whatever. Then a heavy-duty kitchen knife that I use for cutting anything tough or stinky (because I can take it apart and send it through the dishwasher if necessary).

I have at least three pairs in the office. My fav is a very nice mid-sized pair of Mundial sewing scissors. I keep them in the pen-and-tool cup on my computer station. I have a pair of those Fiskars edgers that give a neat pattern edge to a piece of paper. I have a pair of nail scissors from my childhood, just because, and a little bitty pair of old fashioned scissors that came from one of the family farms. Plus a big box cutter and random blades from my art&design years.

In the bathroom, we have two pairs of scissors - my husband's mustache trimmer that I also use for trimming my hair, and a pair of "bandage scissors" with blunt ends.

In my stash of sewing gear I have three pairs. My really nice fabric scissors (Mundial again), a tiny thread trimmer pair (Mundial rocks!), and somewhere, my very old pair of fabric scissors that I acquired when I was a youngster first learning to sew. I suppose I should get rid of them, or maybe save them for when my daughter wants to start her own sewing projects when I'm not willing to let her use my good fabric scissors! (My mother was picky about the scissors designated for cutting fabric versus paper; I picked up that from her.) I also have a fabric cutting wheel blade.

Somewhere in the basement is the pair of medical scissors in the first aid kit we take backpacking.


So I feel content with this number of scissors in my life because I have just what I need where I need it. I don't have to go hunt down a particular pair for a particular purpose - it is already where I need it. And I don't foresee needing any new scissors except for a kid's version when the kiddo gets old enough to responsibly hack up construction paper.


I don't feel content with the number of flashlights I have.

Flashlights are one of those items that we always feel we need more of, only to realize that we already have too many! I think it's partly that their roles are NOT well defined, other than having a couple in a certain drawer (in case of power outage), bitty ones on our keychains (for dark driveways), and a headlamp (for camping and doing work in the attic).

That doesn't count the flashlights that people keep giving us as gifts (so useful, so cool! I can imagine them saying), and the cool stuff that we find ourselves infatuated with. Compact book lights are a particular weakness; I've told myself I have the best one already, No More! So we have a moratorium on flashlights.


I can imagine it would be a useful exercise to write out the number of a given item and the purpose of each. Is it indeed what you need? Does it fulfill its purpose? Is it where it will be best used?

Although some people are put to sleep by such details, I find this kind of meta-contemplation incredible invigorating.

Shoes: eleven, closet. Melon baller: one, kitchen drawer. Tents: uh, do we have to go there?

Self reflection gives me feedback about how I am living my life. So it's not only useful, but it's fun! (Bonus - I often get blog posts out of it. Wait - that might actually account for most of my blog! heh.)


I enjoy discovering new ways to streamline and enhance my life. So yes, I am working to get rid of clutter. Indeed I've got an extra set of kitchen knives in my donation box right now. And that pair of shoes that doesn't fit anymore, etcetera.

Clearing away what is not especially useful allows me to see what really works, not just in my kitchen or in my office, but in my life. And sometimes that means I need more of something. But in just the right place for just the right purpose. Cool. Must go contemplate some more.
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Small Success: Diminishing Desk Pile

First, a little moment of silence and sympathy for the Chicago couple who was almost done in by their own garbage. (It's admittedly a big reminder that however daunting my clutter, my problems are piddling in comparison.) One of them fell through a pile, and the other also got stuck trying to rescue them. Weeks later, a neighbor got a little concerned. They were rescued, but in terrible condition. Sending out a little prayer of support to all the hoarders of the world. Take care of yourselves. You can get help.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So I do follow Flylady, I do. But I've fallen off the wagon in terms of following the daily notes (take 15 min to clear your hotspot, vacuum the middle of the floors in 10 min, etc). I note the zone cleaning reminders and the quick challenges, but I don't actually go DO them, usually. Other than a few swish n swipes, I don't follow along.

I'm also pitiful about using the timer to help keep myself focused while I tackle tasks. It just seems like too much bother to make an effort when I have such little concentrated time to begin with. Too many right now kinds of demands to worry about the backlog.

But today and recently, I've been re-encouraged.

I go around clearing areas that have gotten swallowed in miscellaneous junk (i.e. "hotspots"), and then polishing those areas once they are clear. I've been collecting Items To Give Away in a box in the front hall. (It's so freeing when I make that decision and put something in there. Decision done!) The kitchen sideboard has benefited from this, also the kitchen counter closest to the sink. Slowly I am clearing, rearranging cleaning. Sometimes all it takes is clearing space to make way for a new piece of household scenery, and the space is transformed. I like being able to see the soft shine of my cherrywood china cabinet.

Today while the baby napped, I convinced myself to start on the monstrous pile that my desk has become.

In addition to the usual papers and leftover projects, and the ukulele sob!, it's been accumulating new papers, piles of baby clothing to sort, incomplete Christmas gifts, new checks, batteries, and odds and ends that I must suddenly put out of reach of my daughter. She stands up these days, you know, and often uses a hand or two to see what trinket or hazard she might grab. Sometimes I can distract her with a book or toy that lives here, but I'm still constantly throwing little things on the desk to get them out of her reach. When I sit at my computer, the desk pile reached nearly as high as the top of my head. Nothing I did seemed to make a dent. Plus more things kept getting added.

Today I told myself I was going to get below the first layer, yes, I was. I set my timer and started sorting.

Stuff to file, stuff to toss, stuff to give away.

In not too long, I could see the rest of my poor ukulele's case. And a blouse I meant to donate, and a travel list I'm going to need next month, and the baby monitor that we need to give back, and... Lots of things that really needed to be put elsewhere, many of them into the circular file under my desk *ahem* or in another room entirely, although most of my findings would still be useful if only I could find them.

After two or three fifteen-minute sessions, the average height of my desk pile is now only chest high when I'm sitting down. I can see, if not the end, the beginning of the end of the pile. Oh, yay! Just by making a dent in the clutter, I feel that it's actually possible to shrink it to nothing.

And then I can tackle all the other nagging areas of the house!

I still need to finish sorting out my new filing system, but now that I have my timer back in hand, life is so much more hopeful. A big yay! for getting back on the FlyLady timer bandwagon.
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One In, One Out

As I've been decluttering and slowly paring down my possessions, one maxim that I'm trying on for size is: For every item you bring home, get rid of another item. While I agree with the idea in a general sense, this month, I am trying that more literally.

So I brought home some new jeans and flannel pajama pants from a clothing exchange. And a sweater or two. Before I agree to move them into my clothing stash, I need to decide which of my existing clothes to get rid of. Am I ready to let go of the jeans that don't quite fit well any more? Are the newer jeans actually good enough to replace them? I ask myself. A couple of the "new" clothes are duds after all and I'm sending them back out immediately. Into the Goodwill pile for you! Likewise, I am trying to decide if the new sweater I got is "good enough" to replace another sweater. At least one of them has got to go. Maybe I'll get rid of that ugly, scratchy black oversized cardigan my cousin passed on to me in the '70s or that little plum colored sweater that's a little too short.

We rounded out our plate collection recently because there's a certain size of small plate that we use all the time. In fact, we never have enough of them. So in with four smaller plates, and out with... another four dishes of some sort. Maybe the hand-thrown bowls that are not actually much use. We never use them, have never used them, are not likely to ever grab them if we have the choice. Okay! That was easy enough. Usually I have to go look at what I have.

Sometimes I get a head start on giving things away.

I got rid of a strangely-patterned tablecloth and napkins last month. Of course, the week afterwards, my mother found another napkin that went with the set. Now isn't that funny! With no guilt, I told her that I honestly couldn't remember where I'd even gotten the thing, and that I'd passed it on. Gift from a relative? Oops! Oh, well. Out of the house, out of mind. I have another set of napkins + table cloth that I am also getting rid of. I've been "getting rid" of them for years. I got them at a great price, but I've never used them and the color is not strictly just right. Time to put that one on the Goodwill pile so it'll be out of the house, out of mind as well.

This week I had a chance to give away gobs of baby clothes (including all the preemie clothes that most babies won't fit into) to a mother-baby support organization. Once I started pulling things out of the closet, I started saying, "Here, you can have the pair of organic cotton swaddlers for the new mother of twins." Oh, and these leftover bags of new diapers (now too small for my daughter), and the other box of 0-3 months age clothing, and this spare blanket, AND my entire bag of flannel receiving blankets (which somehow multiply like rabbits when one has a new child). It was good feeling. I then started looking at my collection of baby bottles. Yup, I can pass pretty much all of that along. My decluttering karma is very happy.

Then I recently found a new Goodwill outlet near my sister's house. She had found some cute clothes for the little girl, so I went over there myself to see what could be had. I found more baby clothing items, including some very nice pajama sets (which we never seem to have enough of), a stuffed mouse for the baby ("Mis!" she calls the it), and several great new tops for myself in yummy colors. Men's shirts also looked promising, but I didn't have time to peruse them seriously.

So I have a few more baby clothes for the next year or so, and several great new long-sleeved tops... and therefor, I tell myself, I should get rid of the same number of existing tops!

This is a good excuse to go through my twenty-year old stash of long sleeved shirts and replace them with updated styles and colors. Maybe I'll get rid of that deep sea green shirt with the heavy cuffs. Or the spicy mustard-color shirt. Oy, when was the last time I wore that? Or the taupe thing with a tight collar. Gak!

But I'm being difficult.
I remind myself, All of the old shirts could be useful.
My decluttering self says, Sharrup! When have you worn that since you moved here? Get rid of it now!

I'm going to have to take them out and put them side by side with the new shirts and tell myself it'll be okay. Like a prisoners exchange.

I'll trade you one awful shirt for one nice shirt. Yes, they are awful shirts. You are so tired of earth tones, you've told me so. Now get them out of the house! Take my shirts, please.

But what if I don't have anything to wear when it gets cold? I whine.
You'll be forced to wear better and more attractive shirts! my decluttering self snorts.

Then we'll play sad music on tiny violins and solemnly bid the old shirts adieu and hide them in the thrift store box, and do a little dance of decluttering glee. Take no prisoners.
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Chipping Away at the Pile

Chipping Away at the excess in my life. Yesterday I was thinking about how sometimes it doesn't feel like what I do is enough. Today I was noticing again how I sometimes have too much in my life.

This week, it's too much to do, almost too many social events (too many if we want to keep up with the little girl), too many emails. Oh My. The emails.

I belong to several listservs and reminder-and-notification services. This means it it not unusual for me to get dozens of emails a day if not hour. It's not the tens and hundreds that can pile up in my husband's inbox (everyone gets copied on email discussion whether they need to or not). But it's still substantial.

Last Summer, I decided this could not go on! Following an idea from Leo of Zen Habits and the unclutterer, I shrunk my inbox down to nothing by pasting everything that had piled up into another folder. Then every day, I'd delete the ones I didn't need. That left me accumulating only a few emails per day.

Last month I came back from my trip and realized that once again, I had over a thousand emails simply sitting in my inbox. Now some of them, yes, I need to save for some reason, like gig notes or family correspondence. But what about everything else?!

Frankly, since I had the baby, I simply cannot read everything. I took myself off a couple of lists, and started freely deleting the rest. I actually do read or at least skim the neighborhood listserv, and the notifications from FB help keep me up with my friends across the region and country. Then there are people asking for info or offering me gigs or my mother asking me if I'll make it to an event. Still. 1150+ emails? No. This can't go on. It was to over 2000 at one point, and I shrunk it back by half.

My best practice for shrinking the pile of emails is to purge daily and weekly, monthly, or whatever it takes.

I look at my inbox and ask myself, "Of those things labeled "Today," what do I really need to keep? Any? None? Delete, delete, file, delete!" Then I move onto to those email labeled "Yesterday" and so on.

It's not perfect, but it's the best I can do, and by that I mean it's really the only thing I can do, short of archiving piles of crap, I mean, emails permanently. And what on earth makes me think I will go back and look at them again? Hahaha, no.

An interesting corollary is that I attempt the same strategies with my paper piles.

First I try to get rid of as much incoming as possible. I take myself off of mailing lists and refuse to give info to people who just want to send me more mail. Then I keep trying to file or act on the items that need it, and throw away the rest. And just like as with email, I sometimes I get so annoyed with my lack of progress that I dump a whole pile of stuff into a new box just to get it out of my sight. And it's no surprise, unfortunately, that a new pile just grows in its place! Then, ultimately, I have to keep at it, purging on a daily basis.

I won't even get into news services. I just don't subscribe any more. I cannot keep up with every last thing happening in the world.

It must be a curse of the modern world, though, that we are so connected and so in touch and thusly so overwhelmed with items demanding our attention. All I can think of is to ignore most of it and purge the rest. Every damn day.
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Distributing a Life of "Stuff"

A friend recently posted a note about having to clear out her mother-in-law's meager possessions after she'd passed away. Her MIL had been living in an assisted living facility, so it's not that she had many possessions in that space.

Although the pile of stuff was relatively small, my friend still had a hard time letting go of these things. Thank goodness some things could be passed on or used by other members of the family - a frying pan or robe. Other possessions were baffling to find a new home for them. They must be of use to someone! Yet why did her care-givers keep buying her yet more nightgowns, more hair "product"? And what about old wedding announcements and letters from her sister? They all became things to get rid of eventually.

It seems my friend's difficulty in getting rid of any little thing comes partly from her poverty-stricken past (as she freely admits) and partly from maybe not wanting to shuffle her MIL's memory off so quickly. But more of her disquiet seems to come from just, stuff. You know, *stuff*. The stuff that we accumulate in our lives to some little, big, or no purpose. And what the heck to do with it, now that it has entered our lives demanding time and energy.

Yup, when we pass on, our stuff becomes other people's stuff to deal with. Is it any easier to deal with other people's stuff than one's own?

On one hand, I like to have a say in what happens to my own stuff. On the other hand, it's sometimes easier to deal with other people's stuff more dispassionately. ... Or not.

The one time that my sister and brother-in-law had to leave to go overseas for a year (in a hurry - plane to catch, lease to fulfill, etc), they left (at the last minute, because who has times to tie up all the loose ends when the semester is about to start?) an apartment full of stuff to sort, to throw out or to move to a designated storage unit for a year. My mom and I and my sister's in-laws made a heroic effort to clear the space of their remaining possessions before the lease ran out.

Some things were easy -- that half-used jar of mayo in the fridge or nearly empty bottle of nasal spray under the bathroom sink. Other things were harder - crafts that might have been artwork and possibly useful herbal supplements in the kitchen cabinets. I can't even remember (don't want to remember) how many bags of stuff I threw out or how many bags and boxes of stuff I packed and moved in the back of my truck across the county. It was daunting. And one sometimes ran across things that were a little personal. Nothing bad, but just a little awkward to find. Oh, I didn't really need to know about THAT. (If my sister is reading, Don't worry, I've wiped my memory on purpose - I don't need to have any of that knowledge in permanent storage!)

It was an interesting exercise in cleaning up someone else's stuff in a hurry. Cleaning and sorting someone else's stuff, period!

I start to understand why some perfectly useful things end up in landfills. I can see that one might throw up ones hands and say "Trash it! Just get it out of my sight!" I have that impulse about my own stuff sometimes, and that's a whole 'nother post I hope to write someday.

So my friend talks about clearing out a room or two and how hard it is to distribute everything appropriately. I start to think (again) about what I am going to do when it comes time for me, as executor, to distribute my parent's property. (I'll let that thought sink in for a moment...)

Okay, yes, my parents have a moderately sized house. Four bedrooms plus a family room, plus various closets and an attic too. It is all filled with stuff. My mother has been fighting The Stuff for years. She's laid down a few grounds rules because my father, he of the Great Depression childhood, is always rescuing stuff and bringing it home.

This salvaging tendency has its upsides and downsides. The upside being that lots of perfectly useful things are not just tossed into the landfill to molder. (Helloooo, baby clothes.) The downside being that one (especially my Dad) can end up with a LOT of stuff that you will fix or use someday.

I know, I know. I have written about this before. It's one of the themes of my life: What to do with stuff. Especially stuff that is not quite right and not quite used, but might be useful or used someday. Some people cannot leave an abandoned animal alone and bring them home. I can't stand to see something being neglected.... poor little wingback chair! Let me take you home and fix you up pretty again. No, I am not kidding.

But the things we leave other people... that is a task. And yes, my parents will be leaving me a large task.

I did mention this to my mother about a decade ago, about how I was trepidacious about distributing their mass of household stuff when that time came. I think she said, "Oooh..." with some recognition. I think that's when she enacted some new ground rules to slow the flow of stuff coming in.

And this post of my friend's brings this back to my attention. Part of me is paniced, resigned, dreading this eventuality. Part of me is plotting strategies to do it! Supposedly it is easier with another person's stuff. But that's not taking into account the extra layer of nostalgia and competition. My sisters and I will have to find a way to be equitable.

So my mind is thinking, what, database? A spreadsheet! Okay, so we each pick a room and document what is there so we can figure out what we want to save for outselves and what to distribute.

After my grandfather died and we had to clean out the farmhouse, my eldest uncle (as executor) had what I thought was a great strategy.

Everything in the house and property was documented and listed. Then it was mostly laid out for the family to come through and see. *Then* each person and each family made a ranked list of what items they wanted. Starting in order of birth, each child and each family got to pick thier number one thing on their list... if someone higher than them hadn't already gotten it. So first, it was my uncle, then my aunt, then my other uncle, and finally my father, the youngest child of the family. Then it went to spouses... my aunt, my uncle, my other aunt, my mother. Then it went to eldest grandchild in each family, and so on through the lists... If the next thing on the list had already been chosen, you got to pick the next thing available on your list. It seems like a beautiful, elegant system, other than a few things on our lists that did not appear to exist any more. That old mirror my mother wanted, the crystal goblets on my list that turned out to have been loaned by my aunt.

Some of my cousins pooped out early. No, no, we couldn't take another thing! They said. And they were smart. But when it came down to old screwdrivers and pottery crocks, I was still there. That's why I have a fair number of mundane odds and ends that I'm very sentimental about. That's also why I have all of my grandfather's mismatched flatware, depressionware glass plates and a couple of old quilts. (One sister and one cousin to this day complain bitterly that they did not get a quilt. I have to wonder where were they when they were choosing items. I didn't go for the silver; I went for mundane but nostalgic stuff.)

So I have this as a good model for how to distribute a whole household and farm worth of stuff. I think this would work on my parent's house. But first, we'd have to clean and sort... and then negotiate with my sisters about how fast to get rid of things (since they have equally bad tendencies to hang on to stuff). But I'm thinking one of those rent-a-dumpsters for cleaning, sort, document, distribute, then estate sale for anything left over! I may have to pry extra duplicates out of my sister's hands out of mercy. Then to fix up and sell the house... do I even have time to do this for my own stuff?!

There could be complications. Nostalgia and competitions, conflicting ideas of how to undertake this task.

If I'm lucky, my parents will pare down on their own and even sell the house before we get to that point. But I'm not counting on it. I know I shouldn't worry about things ahead of time. I'm trying to NOT spend time energy worrying about it. But I do think it's worth thinking about ways to approach it. Because one way or another, I'll have to deal with their stuff someday, just as someone will have to deal with *my* stuff someday. Now that's a scary thought!

On that note, I'm going to start bagging some stuff for the thriftstore.
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Clutter Decisions and STUFF

With all of the reorganization going on around here, I've been reflecting on WHY we find ourselves having to deal with so much stuff. In one of my favorites posts from the Get-It-Done-Guy, he touches on why we end up with so much stuff.

He writes:

Filing systems—paper or not—are notorious for things going in but never coming out. Just remember the final scene of “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” They bury the Ark of the Covenant for all time by filing it in a government warehouse.

He adds:

If you’re under 18, you may be wondering what the fuss is. Give it ten years. As you find stuff that’s too valuable, too legal, too fun, or too incriminating to throw away, you’ll want to keep it. One time-honored way is by using a filing cabinet. And yes, even if you’re under 25, you’ll find you want to keep some things that can’t be scanned into the digital world. Besides, your online file folders are probably as scattered as most of the paper ones.

Hahahah! Yes!

For us, it's not just the files or the paper, although the volume of paper itself is pretty daunting. No, it's all the stuff that accumulates for a given project or stage in life. Those interests and passions that generate more material that seems important at the time, then quickly turns into less-important junk after we've moved on to other things. It's like an archaeological dig, sometimes, going through all the layers of our past lives. Poetry, videos, information and instruction, half-completed projects, bumper stickers, notes, maps, books, packages, commemorative pins, decorations, pieces of games, thirty years of drawings and paintings, old diplomas and trophies, screws and renovation materials, and even (oh god!) legislation.

And the thing that keeps me from moving on, aside from the nostalgia, is deciding what is no longer useful or deciding where it needs to go. Somebody might find this useful, so should I try to pass it on or just junk it? Or try to get some money back out of it? Freecycle and Craigs List, here I come. FlyLady, help!

My parents (no surprise there) are bad about passing on stuff that might be better thrown away. I'll never forget the day (some twelve years ago just after I had cleaned house) that my mom dropped off several boxes of childhood memorabilia including cards of congratulations from when I was born. It didn't even know those existed! I didn't need to know they existed! There the boxes sat for weeks in my otherwise clean living room, depressing the hell out of me. I found myself paralyzed by the need to decide of how much of this to keep. It's the all-holy family history, but the torch had been passed to me. Me with the house a third of the size of my parents', I should add. Me with half a house of my sisters and BIL's stuff stored in my basement. Me with clutter tendencies of my own. Me with several previous career/lives with accompanying materials.

I can't remember what happened to the last of those birth cards, but I do know that when my mom passed on a plaster hand-cast from my kindergarten years this Summer, I said, "That's cute" and tossed it in the trash. After all, I realized, no doubt I will have my own child's plaster hand-print in a few years, and I really, really, really don't need my own.

The decision-making can be hard, but I am slowly learning to be ruthless. Ruthless about tossing things, ruthless about refusing other people's cast-off stuff that they can't bear to get rid of. It makes me less-inclined to pass off my own junk, because, really, who wants it?! I need to make my own decisions (as hard as that is), and just do it and don't look back. And I don't want to deal with (throw away) other people's deferred decisions either. Thanks but no thanks.

It's not just that the decisions are many. I'm fighting against a lifetime of conditioning to Not Throw Anything Away. My Depression-era ancestors are still nagging me in the back of my psyche. Okay, there is merit in being thrifty, but not if all those things you save just in case take over your brain and your house. Saving for later use is one thing. Hoarding is quite another, but the line between the two is pretty damn thin. I know it's not just my family, either.

There is also the circumstantial stuff of Neglected Household Blending. Years of books and boxes that have not been sorted for the last nine years. College stuff that has not seen the light of day since it was shoved into the basement lo those many years ago. Stuff that we didn't have time to think about when we first moved and is now quietly moldering below. I guess we could categorize this as Stuff We Could Deal With Later that never found the later! There is no later; it's all junk now.

Then there is the holy Documentation Gene that gives some erroneous justification for keeping old stuff from the past. Thou shalt not throw away history. It starts with old family photographs, borderline-antique ancestral items, and then moves on to "notes from your grandmother when she was in college" and leftover antique-buttons-that-you-can-keep-for-years-for-no-reason-at-all. And...and... mileage from trips from when you were in junior high and recordings from when you were four years old and trying to tell a joke, or one of those times you graduated: four hours of music, speeches, programs, conversation and background noise. Good God! Stop it already!

I feel like I am in a 12-step program to declutter. You really have to live it every day, consistently, persistently making choices about what to keep in your life, what to throw away, what to refuse. And if the decisions are neglected for a while and the piles of junk and clutter start burning again, you have to gird yourself and dive back in with no regrets or recriminations.

It's so tempting, so easy, to put off the decisions. What to do with this or that. Whether it fits with your life purpose, whether it's truly useful or just a stand-in for some ambition or good intention. I don't know the answer. Or rather, I don't know the answer for me. But I know I can't keep accumulating stuff, whether it's stuff I buy or stuff that just moves in and stays. It's suffocating.

We have a small house. We need more storage, no doubt. But I'm saying these days, it's not that we need more storage; we need less stuff. The tidal wave of kid-stuff is about to begin. Save us!
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ETA and Chaos

We have about two months before her expected arrival, and I am going nuts. There is way too much to do, and seemingly not enough time to do it in. This is not even including the part about "making the room look cute." This is clearing the space to make room. Complicating the usual preparation are all the projects and tasks we have been neglecting the last few years, both inside and outside the house.

So to organize anything, I have to drag out a bunch of junk to make space, and then figure how what/where to put the junk. In another box? In the trash? Sell it? But then I have to _____. And our basement is already full of random piles of Stuff-We-Will-Probably-Never-Use-Again. I consider it a success if we put the Junk-We-Can't-Get-Rid-Of on some shelving instead of on the concrete so that it looks *somewhat* organized. FlyLady would say that you can't organize clutter. Oh, SO TRUE! Most of it is clutter alright. I just don't have the mental energy to make those decisions right now and decide what goes and where it goes. The easy stuff goes into the trash or off to Goodwill or the thrift store. The hard stuff goes on a shelf.

So I have plans for neatening and organizing (and decluttering- yea!), and some things are getting done. But jeez, I forgot the part about how I have to make more of a mess before I can neaten up. If this post sounds repetitive and disorganized, uh, welcome to my head these days.

In addition, Mr. Sweetie has decided that he needs to do certain things to make the house look presentable for our upcoming house appraisal (don't ask), even though they have nothing to do with the ETA of our daughter. So we have new drop cloths and rearranging of various things (which stresses me out when he wants it done NOW), and oh, did I mention that one of my earrings dropped off the rack as he was moving it across the house? It's... somewhere. Hopefully not down the heating vent or into the basement. On the upside, our gutters are clean.

We hashed out some of our work strategies last night. We have different styles of getting things done, and sometimes thar be clashes. We often just step back and let each other have our project space, but it's more complicated when the projects involve both of our spaces. So let's establish a few key communication set-pieces to mesh our expectations and personal needs a little better. So far, so better.

But here's one project aside from the gutters that is actually proceeding: The hall/linen closet.

I forgot to take a before picture, but here's the after. And it's actually well-organized now, although it might not be obvious considering how full it is.

This includes things like sleeping bags, blankets, sheets, towels, spare fleece blankets and pillows, tissue, etc.


Also things like games, several air mattresses, kitty litter, furnace air filters, hand warmers, light bulbs, medicine box, certain appliances, step stool, and oh yeah, coats and jackets as well. Theoretically, this is where the vacuum cleaner lives as well.

My secret here is that I did not take an entire day to tear my hair out over it and make myself crazy. I set my timer for 15 minutes FlyLady fashion and pulled out, sorted, and reorganized stuff for those 15 minutes. Then I took another 15 to put everything back in order and put rejected stuff into bags for Goodwill. Note I did not redo the *entire* closet; I only neatened to the point that I could find things. Or as the Get-It-Done-Guy says, file for retrieval! And I didn't kill myself doing it.

So now we want to have a house-project friend clean and paint the baby's room for us (also involving spackle and wallpaper border removal). It's not vital to gussy up the place, but it would be nice to have that done. And so in order to have her do that, I have to clear the room! Convenient, that. (Now if I could do the same thing to the office, I'd be estatic, but let's start with baby steps, here.)



Here's another project that is actually proceeding: The sorting of the fabric.

The baby's room has had fabric in it for years. Years.

And other random stuff from previous careers, but yeah, mostly it's fabric.

It's even been taking up drawer space in the changing table!


So my goal has been to sort all this stuff in some organized fashion so it's not just a Pile-O-Fabric. It can't go into the basement because Hellooo Mildew, and all the closets are taken, taken, I tell you! As are the corners. When my mother offered bigger boxes with the suggestion that we "just stack them in the corners," I had to tell her, "Mom! We don't have any corners left!" (Oh, did I mention that we have a rather small house?) So my current plan is to box it up by color and store it under the bed. This I can do.

Rather than buy yet more plastic boxes, I have been retrieving a set of my favorite sized box for the sorting. Certain boxes have piles of paperwork in them. Others are half filled with other projects. Over the course of a few weeks, I have consolidated and thrown out enough stuff to clear five whole boxes and possibly another two! Yea! That in itself is an accomplishment - fling, fling, fling!

So now commences the sorting. At some point, I will likely include the tossing as well. I doubt I can keep all of it. So far, so good.


I have to keep these successful progressions in mind to hold off the panic attacks. If it weren't for the Do-Everything-for-15-Minutes-At-A-Time, I'd be sunk. At there are still times that I get overwhelmed with just Too Much To Do. I just hope I have some sanity left after the holidays. Wish me luck.
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