I had a dream about you last weekend at the cabin. I lived in my house
in CA and the mail lady delivered my mail up two streets. I got in my
car and drove over there and the mailbox was the type with a big hinged
door like Post Offices have. When I opened it up, the mailbox was full
of presents from you. You know how you did, wrrapped up every little
thing you could find in cheap, ugly paper and then write our names on the scraps, on
the white side, and tape them to the present.
One said "Brenda Bear", (I have no idea where that came from), another said "JR", another said "Pam" written in your
hand writing with the cursive P like you did.
The woman who lived in
the house came out and was helping me with the presents and she said,
"Oooh, this is ruined, I'll throw it out." I glanced down and it was a
letter written from you on white lined paper in black ink. It had a few
holes like it had been dragged across something rough. I grabbed
the note from the woman and said, "NO! You can't! She's dying!!!"
And when I looked up, she was you. And we hugged and I could feel
you.
I woke up crying. Hating and loving the dream at the same time. Days later, I still don't think I'm completely back to normal.
The
hard thing is I think I am doing fine dealing with losing you day to day and
then I will have a dream like this. All of these feelings of loss come
rushing back and I am consumed by sadness all over again. But seeing
you is incredible, so please don't stop doing whatever you are doing if
you are the one doing it. We all miss you so much, Mom. We really do.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Simplifying to the Extreme
Moving from a 2000 sq ft home (plus 2 car garage), to an 880 sq ft
cabin (with no garage), is not an easy feat, especially when you
presently store 3000 sq ft of stuff in 2000 sq ft. of space. Let's not
forget, the cabin is already full of it's own
furniture, pans, decorations, appliances, electronics, rugs, toothbrushes, etc. So to be technical, I am actually trying to fit close to 4000 sq ft of goods in under 1000 sq ft.
I am blessed with the gift of storage. I know how to fold, stack, rotate and hide things to get the most out of my space. I LOVE organizing! Taking a jumbled mess of pens, paper, paperclips, etc., and making a tidy display of them fills me with content, but my ability can only go so far. It was time to purge.
Not terribly long ago, I would make gargantuan quantities of lasagna, chicken pot pies or soup and freeze for later meals. I am anti-plastic, so there was no Ziploc or Tupperware. I had six 13" X 9" glass pans, eight glass and metal bread pans of varying sizes, four 8" sq glass pans, 6 glass pie plates, canning jars galore, you get the idea. This began the seemingly never ending task of downsizing. I asked my daughter if she needed any pans and after she took what she could use, I was still left with quite a pile.
This left me with a dilemma, what do I do with everything I am de-cluttering?
I turned to Facebook and searched for virtual yard sales around my area. I came up with six different groups with over 6,000 members and started joining. After being accepted, I took pictures of my unwanted items, posting them with prices and details on each group. Thus began my 3 month journey of the most annoying time in my life.
I am incredibly anal. I am structured. I am impatient. I answer all of my emails and messages promptly. I hate people who aren't true to their word. I trust people. I believe a person when they say they will be at my home at 3:00 pm.
Never have I been stood up by so many people, then ignored when I try to contact them to see where they are. I am not exaggerating. For every person who came to my home to pick up an item, there were 10 more that didn't show, had an emergency, got called in to work, got in an accident, whose child was sick, chipped a tooth, twisted their ankle or disappeared from the face of the earth. This is fine, you can have all the catastrophes you like, but TELL ME!!! Cancel the meeting BEFORE the meeting time. When you are supposed to be at my home at 2:00 pm and are still waiting at the Doctors office at 2:15 pm when I contact you to see if you are on your way, you will not be making the 2:00 pm appointment you set. LET ME KNOW!!! I tried so hard to blow it off, but every time it happened, I felt like screaming!
I had my first ocular migraine caused by, you got it, stress.
I am $3,500 richer and besides my quadruple stroller which sold for $650, the majority of my items sold between $10 and $20. You do the math. This is how many people I have had interactions with. I only have a few more sell-able items, so I think I will make it out alive, thankfully.
Down-sizing has always been something I have been drawn to. It thrills me to think I will only be surrounded by things I love, things I use. It pleases me to know when I open a cupboard, I will like every single coffee cup in there. To look up from my book and see artwork made by my Mom or an antique egg basket perched just so, it warms my heart.
But in the meantime, I open a drawer and there are seven twist ties, two rubber bands, three pens that don't work, four burned candles and a ripped hot pad staring at me. Why in the world do I have these things? I am going to blame this on my Grandmother who lived through The Depression and has been a strong influence in my life.
From the age of two to four, I lived with Grandma and Grandpa in Kunesh, WI from Mon to Fri. My Mom was recently divorced from my Father, had three children to support and no financial help. My older two sisters were in school, but I was too young, although they did squeak me in to kindergarten at four which was more common back then. My Mom worked at St Norbert's College in the library, making what little she could and Grandma was a huge help to her.
My Grandmother had my Mom and then a few years later, while quite pregnant with another child, was kicked in the stomach by a cow. The baby died. In the 1940's, they let the baby naturally make it's exit. By the time this finally happened, it had ruined my Grandma's uterus and in her mid 20's, she had to have a hysterectomy. My Mother was an only child to a woman who wanted a dozen.
Many years later, along came my sisters and I, but my Father was a wanderer and they moved from city to city, state to state, while he worked and abused her. This resulted in the end of their marriage and the return to Wisconsin of my Mother. From this unhappy story comes a truly wonderful life for me because I found in my Grandmother a woman who had all the time in the world, and the desire to show me how much she loved me during a hectic, stressful time for my Mother.
Back to my original point, my Grandma lived through The Depression and every Cool Whip container or bit of string that crossed her path became a permanent resident in her home. I am not quite that extreme, but I do have hoarder tendencies. Sadly, I am married to a pack rat as well who comes from pack rack parents. We started our marriage making $11,000 a year with a baby on the way. Sometimes there is a reason for the madness, but it was time to adjust and realize you do not need to keep a box of shoe strings from shoes you wore 30 years ago.
Every item that leaves here, is an item no longer requiring my attention, my space or my upkeep. It is incredibly freeing to donate blankets I never really liked in the first place. It is uplifting to see someone squeal with delight when they purchase an item which has been sitting in the corner gathering dust for ages. It is amazing to open a cabinet door and see a bare shelf.
But, Dear Lord! I have so much stuff! It is easy getting rid of things you never really enjoyed in the first place, but then comes the tough stuff. The mahogany hall tree you found in an antique store that fit perfectly at the foot of the stair after you bought your first home, the oil painting you always admired which hung in your book store and clothes, strangely, clothes were very difficult to part with. Remembering where you wore something and where you might want to wear it again. This is hard.
Closet space is minimal in the cabin. We built it with weekends in mind, but I continue to remind myself it is larger than the apartment we shared when we were first married. We have bought under-bed storage containers for the things we just have to have and this past weekend JR was busy building me a spice rack in the "pantry" to free up some cupboard and drawer space. I'm pleased!
Every weekend we go to the cabin, I bring back items I had thought we would need there. I also bring items from home, see if they fit or look good and sometimes bring those back, too. I try to make a quick run to Goodwill once back home to get them out of here before I change my mind.
Sometimes I need to talk myself into getting rid of something. I will leave it front and center and force myself to deal with it. For instance, my ceramic 3 bowl set from Williams Sonoma. I have a whole set of L. L. Bean bowls, plates, cups, flour and sugar containers, cookie jar, you name it. I do not need another set of bowls even if they are Williams Sonoma and graduating in size and pretty and I have a bowl fetish, I do NOT need them. And they are big. So I left them out on my counter at home in League City and I had to keep working around them. Finally I couldn't stand it. I took their picture and they were gone by that afternoon. And it felt good! They were JUST bowls! Bowls I did not need. It takes time, but the more I release from my space, the better I feel.
There are items I can't get rid of. Photo Albums. I have taken pictures our whole marriage. I have put every worthy photo in an album in order. Remember the anal retentive comment above? I have approx. 20 photo albums and this is after I gave the girls their five or so photo albums EACH I had made for them from the day they were born until they graduated. I am boxing ours up for our future storage closet, but I kept out two blank books to fill once we move. I can't help myself. Other smaller items: My Grandpa's horseshoe trophy, my Mom's tiara she wore when marrying my Dad, my Dad's ceramic vase he kept his #2 incense in, a smell that will always remind me of him, some tiny antique shoes given to me by Mom, things like this. I really don't have a place for them, but I will find a place.
So there you have it. De-cluttering at its not so finest. I have someone coming tomorrow for a newer twin mattress I have in a not so new antique frame I refinished for my youngest daughter over 20 years ago. I got it from my eldest daughter's friend's Mom for $25 and stripped then stained it. But it's just a frame and the little girl who slept in that bed is now close to graduating college and we don't need it anymore.
I'm turning into a sentimental old fool.
I am blessed with the gift of storage. I know how to fold, stack, rotate and hide things to get the most out of my space. I LOVE organizing! Taking a jumbled mess of pens, paper, paperclips, etc., and making a tidy display of them fills me with content, but my ability can only go so far. It was time to purge.
Not terribly long ago, I would make gargantuan quantities of lasagna, chicken pot pies or soup and freeze for later meals. I am anti-plastic, so there was no Ziploc or Tupperware. I had six 13" X 9" glass pans, eight glass and metal bread pans of varying sizes, four 8" sq glass pans, 6 glass pie plates, canning jars galore, you get the idea. This began the seemingly never ending task of downsizing. I asked my daughter if she needed any pans and after she took what she could use, I was still left with quite a pile.
This left me with a dilemma, what do I do with everything I am de-cluttering?
I turned to Facebook and searched for virtual yard sales around my area. I came up with six different groups with over 6,000 members and started joining. After being accepted, I took pictures of my unwanted items, posting them with prices and details on each group. Thus began my 3 month journey of the most annoying time in my life.
I am incredibly anal. I am structured. I am impatient. I answer all of my emails and messages promptly. I hate people who aren't true to their word. I trust people. I believe a person when they say they will be at my home at 3:00 pm.
Never have I been stood up by so many people, then ignored when I try to contact them to see where they are. I am not exaggerating. For every person who came to my home to pick up an item, there were 10 more that didn't show, had an emergency, got called in to work, got in an accident, whose child was sick, chipped a tooth, twisted their ankle or disappeared from the face of the earth. This is fine, you can have all the catastrophes you like, but TELL ME!!! Cancel the meeting BEFORE the meeting time. When you are supposed to be at my home at 2:00 pm and are still waiting at the Doctors office at 2:15 pm when I contact you to see if you are on your way, you will not be making the 2:00 pm appointment you set. LET ME KNOW!!! I tried so hard to blow it off, but every time it happened, I felt like screaming!
I had my first ocular migraine caused by, you got it, stress.
I am $3,500 richer and besides my quadruple stroller which sold for $650, the majority of my items sold between $10 and $20. You do the math. This is how many people I have had interactions with. I only have a few more sell-able items, so I think I will make it out alive, thankfully.
Down-sizing has always been something I have been drawn to. It thrills me to think I will only be surrounded by things I love, things I use. It pleases me to know when I open a cupboard, I will like every single coffee cup in there. To look up from my book and see artwork made by my Mom or an antique egg basket perched just so, it warms my heart.
But in the meantime, I open a drawer and there are seven twist ties, two rubber bands, three pens that don't work, four burned candles and a ripped hot pad staring at me. Why in the world do I have these things? I am going to blame this on my Grandmother who lived through The Depression and has been a strong influence in my life.
From the age of two to four, I lived with Grandma and Grandpa in Kunesh, WI from Mon to Fri. My Mom was recently divorced from my Father, had three children to support and no financial help. My older two sisters were in school, but I was too young, although they did squeak me in to kindergarten at four which was more common back then. My Mom worked at St Norbert's College in the library, making what little she could and Grandma was a huge help to her.
My Grandmother had my Mom and then a few years later, while quite pregnant with another child, was kicked in the stomach by a cow. The baby died. In the 1940's, they let the baby naturally make it's exit. By the time this finally happened, it had ruined my Grandma's uterus and in her mid 20's, she had to have a hysterectomy. My Mother was an only child to a woman who wanted a dozen.
Many years later, along came my sisters and I, but my Father was a wanderer and they moved from city to city, state to state, while he worked and abused her. This resulted in the end of their marriage and the return to Wisconsin of my Mother. From this unhappy story comes a truly wonderful life for me because I found in my Grandmother a woman who had all the time in the world, and the desire to show me how much she loved me during a hectic, stressful time for my Mother.
Back to my original point, my Grandma lived through The Depression and every Cool Whip container or bit of string that crossed her path became a permanent resident in her home. I am not quite that extreme, but I do have hoarder tendencies. Sadly, I am married to a pack rat as well who comes from pack rack parents. We started our marriage making $11,000 a year with a baby on the way. Sometimes there is a reason for the madness, but it was time to adjust and realize you do not need to keep a box of shoe strings from shoes you wore 30 years ago.
Every item that leaves here, is an item no longer requiring my attention, my space or my upkeep. It is incredibly freeing to donate blankets I never really liked in the first place. It is uplifting to see someone squeal with delight when they purchase an item which has been sitting in the corner gathering dust for ages. It is amazing to open a cabinet door and see a bare shelf.
But, Dear Lord! I have so much stuff! It is easy getting rid of things you never really enjoyed in the first place, but then comes the tough stuff. The mahogany hall tree you found in an antique store that fit perfectly at the foot of the stair after you bought your first home, the oil painting you always admired which hung in your book store and clothes, strangely, clothes were very difficult to part with. Remembering where you wore something and where you might want to wear it again. This is hard.
Closet space is minimal in the cabin. We built it with weekends in mind, but I continue to remind myself it is larger than the apartment we shared when we were first married. We have bought under-bed storage containers for the things we just have to have and this past weekend JR was busy building me a spice rack in the "pantry" to free up some cupboard and drawer space. I'm pleased!
Every weekend we go to the cabin, I bring back items I had thought we would need there. I also bring items from home, see if they fit or look good and sometimes bring those back, too. I try to make a quick run to Goodwill once back home to get them out of here before I change my mind.
Sometimes I need to talk myself into getting rid of something. I will leave it front and center and force myself to deal with it. For instance, my ceramic 3 bowl set from Williams Sonoma. I have a whole set of L. L. Bean bowls, plates, cups, flour and sugar containers, cookie jar, you name it. I do not need another set of bowls even if they are Williams Sonoma and graduating in size and pretty and I have a bowl fetish, I do NOT need them. And they are big. So I left them out on my counter at home in League City and I had to keep working around them. Finally I couldn't stand it. I took their picture and they were gone by that afternoon. And it felt good! They were JUST bowls! Bowls I did not need. It takes time, but the more I release from my space, the better I feel.
There are items I can't get rid of. Photo Albums. I have taken pictures our whole marriage. I have put every worthy photo in an album in order. Remember the anal retentive comment above? I have approx. 20 photo albums and this is after I gave the girls their five or so photo albums EACH I had made for them from the day they were born until they graduated. I am boxing ours up for our future storage closet, but I kept out two blank books to fill once we move. I can't help myself. Other smaller items: My Grandpa's horseshoe trophy, my Mom's tiara she wore when marrying my Dad, my Dad's ceramic vase he kept his #2 incense in, a smell that will always remind me of him, some tiny antique shoes given to me by Mom, things like this. I really don't have a place for them, but I will find a place.
So there you have it. De-cluttering at its not so finest. I have someone coming tomorrow for a newer twin mattress I have in a not so new antique frame I refinished for my youngest daughter over 20 years ago. I got it from my eldest daughter's friend's Mom for $25 and stripped then stained it. But it's just a frame and the little girl who slept in that bed is now close to graduating college and we don't need it anymore.
I'm turning into a sentimental old fool.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)