Those who will, do; those who don't, blog?

It occurs to me that my last post ("Linens"... how embarrassing) could easily be mistaken for satire. Let's face it, I dumped an embarrassment of sheets, etc. on a huge table, folded them, tossed a small portion, and then put them back all over my house(!!!). Oh yes, and then I spent more time writing and uploading pictures about it than I actually spent doing it.
As I sit here feeling foolish, I can't avoid seeing another tower of boxes to my right, an still-overstuffed (or at least disorganized) closet to my left, and knowing that there's far more out of sight.
All of which suggests that it would be far more useful for me to just get rid of clutter than to write about it.
The writing was supposed to be self-motivating. It was, for a while. Time to hush up and bust some clutter...!

Four Weeks: Linens

So what else did I do in my Four Week de-cluttering project, so many, many weeks ago?

Well, I clutter-busted our linens. Not that they're made out of linen, but you know what I mean.

First, I gathered the linens from all over the house: the not-yet-folded laundry hampers; the linen closet; the guest room; our son's room; and two big bins from the basement. This was the shocking part. It turns out that we have a ton of linens.

BEFORE. Two bins from the basement and a table-full from everywhere else.

Second, I folded and sorted it all. The pile looked even bigger at that point but at least I could see what I had to work with.

Third, I purged. 

My first pass generated a very small pile of give-aways. At this point it was abundantly clear that I'm not a minimalist as that term has come to be used in the blogosphere. I will always want more than one set of towels. And why would I give away perfectly good ones?

However, I came back later in the day and purged some more. Taking a break and returning to the task with fresh eyes worked really well.

I was left with a table full of keepers. Between us, our dog, overnight guests, and long, cold winters, we do use a lot.

AFTER. I still have a table-full, but everything on the floor is going!

Garbage (left) and give-aways (right).

In the end, I threw out half a hamper of linens that had seen better days, and I gave away an over-flowing hamper to charity. Win win.

I'm particularly happy to be rid of my husband's massive "Santa Fe-style" comforter. Shudder. I'm told that the community of Santa Fe is lovely. 1980's Santa Fe-style anything is not. Hopefully someone else is loving it anyway!

Finally, I broke out my label-maker and put the keepers away. Check out this linen closet!

The beauty of it is, our linen closet actually still looks like this. The labels work like a charm (i.e. my husband and I both follow them).  

The linen closet only holds towels and toilet paper now. While this may seem like a scandalous waste of space, I love being able to grab the towels I want in a flash, such as when the dog is puking. My husband loves being able to open the closet door without an avalanche. I think that spaciousness is my favourite clutter-busting reward.

Regrettably I don't have a 'before' picture of the linen closet, probably because I couldn't bring myself to record its chaos. 

The table-linens and bed-linens are in a dresser in our dining room now, except for our son's sheets which are in his room.

Two big bins came out of the basement.
One small bin went back.

The only linens that went back into the basement are this little bin of antique linens and fabrics. It's a lot smaller than the two big bins of linens that we used to store down there, now blissfully empty.

I might sell some of those antique linens one day, but I got bogged down when I tried to go through them, so I decided to set them aside and come back another day. 

I've learned to keep moving and stay positive.

p.s. These pictures make our home look deceptively large. It's a 1300 square foot bungalow, which I think is modest but could be spacious depending on your perspective. The dining room is as big as some tiny houses! I like it when we squeeze in the kitchen chairs and host the whole family, and it's a great clutter-sorting spot.

Mamma culpa

Usually my mea culpa's are triggered by the things I didn't do, not the things I did do. Like, say, not blogging. Or not vacuuming. Take your pick.

But yesterday I had to get down on my knees, look deeply into my son's eyes, and 'fess up: I gave away his Mega Bloks.

I've given away many of his toys after he's stopped playing with them, sometimes with his agreement and sometimes after a suitable period in which they have been hidden away without being missed.

Now that I think of it, he had actually agreed to give away the MegaBloks, but neither of us remembered that last night when he wanted to play with them, for the first time in months.

This is one of the few times that I've had to apologize for clutter-busting. Usually my clutter-busting generates a very positive response from all concerned but there have been exceptions:

1. Mega Bloks (see above). My son got over it pretty quickly.

2. Travel mugs. My husband kept bringing these home from golf tournaments. I figured two were enough and gave away the rest. He left one at his dad's and left the other in his car overnight. He was not impressed. He got over it.
3. My mother's teapot, which I broke for her. Seriously. I was trying to help her but I went about it the wrong way. Yes, I regret it.
4. An old bathrobe that I took from my grandmother's closet after she died. When my husband and I were engaged and preparing to move into our home together, I made a brief effort pare down. I asked him to choose between my black satin Victoria's Secret robe and my late grandmother's flowery pink cotton robe. Naturally, he picked the black satin. Of course the black satin stays in the back of the closet and I just wear his cotton-terry robe instead! I still keep the black satin because every year or so I break out the skimpy lingerie and it's nice to have something to cover up in. In the spirit of clutter-busting I guess I could toss the black satin and rock a terry-and-lace look... or not.
5. My Pillsbury Dough Boy cookie jar. I gave it away after much deliberation, and I miss the little fellow. Fortunately I have this sweet image of the Dough Boy and my beautiful son admiring his new monkey.

On a whim I just checked eBay and found dozens of cookie jars just like this. I miss it less already!

What are your clutter-busting regrets?

The road to hell is paved with...

Good intentions. I have many of them. Like saving money. Making use of unused space. (I know, I know, why is it a good intention to use up space? Something to do with making the most of a small home... or just squeezing everything into it.)
I have some not-so-good impulses too. Like the urge to savour a Sweet and Salty bar while waiting in line at Costco.
All of which led me to discard an almost-full carton of granola bars today.
I was cleaning out the cupboard above our basement stairs, which extends far beyond my reach. With the help of 5-iron, I extracted all the balled-up grocery bags and groceries that had settled back there.
Among them, a dusty carton of granola bars. No best-before date. The dust was a clue, but I hate to throw out food so I called the manufacturer to inquire. "Um, ma'am," the rep said, "those bars were manufactured in 2009, and we like them to be consumed within 9 months, so, I'm sorry, they're just too old." She was very apologetic. "It happens to all of us," she said sympathetically. Collectively, what a waste.
Into the garbage they went, along with the unopened jar of salsa that expired in 2009(!), etc.
I wondered if I should take my chances with the microwave popcorn that expired last week, but decided to just stop poisoning my body with these chemicals anyway.
I'm somewhat perplexed by the unopened bag of oats, which I bought on sale last spring, just before summer came and I stopped eating hot cereal. Best before date now passed. Ingredients: 100% oats. Dry oats don't last forever...?
I'm coming around to the view that "storage" and "sale" are mixed blessings at best, perhaps better avoided.

Busy Bee

Oops, I haven't posted in weeks. So what have I been doing? Some serious clutter-busting! I've become a familiar face at the Salvation Army, my garbage men (so far they're all men) must hate me, and I'm still trying to make a go of consignment and on-line classifieds (hence I'm on-line).
Yesterday I bought a bottle of wine just to persuade my local liquor store to give me some of its empty boxes. Do I need to add that the wine got opened before the boxes got filled?
Anyway, no time to post -- the clutter is calling...

Four weeks: Looking back; moving along.

Yes, I abandoned my Four Week de-clutter project. I wasn't inclined to write another post explaining why I didn't de-clutter that day. More importantly, I was spending more time blogging about de-cluttering than actually doing it. I decided that a Four Week project didn't necessarily require daily posts, but when I stopped posting daily, my motivation dropped too. So no, I didn't completely de-clutter our home in four weeks!

I did, however, do some more active de-cluttering during the Four Week period. More on that in future posts. 

In the meantime, I've noticed a change in me. De-cluttering is becoming instinctive. 

When I wear something that's uncomfortable or worn-out, it doesn't go back into the cupboard. My donation pile keeps growing, as does our garbage. It feels wasteful to get rid of usable things but it's a relief to be wearing clothes that fit, without holes or stains. I'm also less likely to bring home unsuitable things.

I keep spotting housewares that we aren't using or enjoying, and adding them to the give-away pile too. Some of these objects are sentimental. I tell myself that the memories will survive without the objects, but I wonder if that de-cluttering tenet is valid. Even if my memories remain, will I access them as frequently without these reminders? Does that matter? 

Case in point: my Pillsbury Doughboy cookie jar. Strike one: I rarely bake cookies. Strike two: it's not airtight, so I don't use it even when I do have cookies. Strike three: my kitchen counter is tiny and this is taking up valuable real estate. On the other hand, it's charming to me, and I smile when I remember that I won it in a Knights of Columbus Father-Son Golf Tournament. I'm not a father or son; I'm not even Catholic! But my father-in-law injured his shoulder and invited me to golf in his place, along with his two sons and his nephew. It was so nice to be included. And I was delighted to bring home the Doughboy cookie jar. I don't feel ready to part with it after all! Oh, dear. This is so not the purpose of my clutterbuster blog. :-)

On the other hand, it could make someone else happy, and I could add it to my 100 things we no longer have page...maybe even with a photo... How sad is it that I'm devoting this much thought to a cookie jar? 

What this thought tells me is that the cookie jar is special to me as a symbol, not an object. 

First, it's a nostalgic reminder of my childhood -- of my mother baking Pillsbury Crescent Rolls with us! How happy that made me. I feel so totally loved in that memory. (And no, I actually don't think that feeling was created by Pillsbury marketing.) Well, I don't need the jar to preserve that memory. 

Second, it reminds me how much my father-in-law matters to me. How much I want to feel included in my husband's family. That being the case, I should act accordingly. I don't need the cookie jar for that either.  

Four weeks: Day 9 -- Sick as a dog

Now I know why I felt so unmotivated yesterday; by evening I had a nasty sore throat. Today, fever and non-stop nasal drip. Nothing like a cold during a heat wave.

Have I whined enough to account for the fact that I did no clutter-busting today? I spent the morning in bed. I spent the afternoon doing some emergency re-staking of our tomato plants; dabbing my nose; and entertaining my son with the least possible effort (we took our dog for a long, slow walk).

I did download my garage sale photos, starting with my personal favourite:

Mid-morning.
How many generations does it take to assemble a cradle?

We left these stragglers unattended
for two hours after the sale.
Nothing moved.
Then we donated them. 

After the sale, a bit more basement floor than the week before.

Formerly the 'garage sale merch' corner of our basement as seen last week.
Now, breathing space!

Finally, thanks to a great idea from Tanja Hoagland's 30 Day Clutter Bootcamp, I sold some CD's that had been taking up space. As I prepared for the garage sale, I listened to my CD's that were neither obvious keepers nor obvious tossers (I'd already donated the obvious tossers). I discovered one gem that I didn't even know I had(!), and identified about twenty that I don't enjoy anymore. I'm only a few chapters into it, but already I'm loving Tanja's book and her practical tips. 

After the CD's sold, my sister-in-law said, "you did copy them first, right?" Uh, no. I didn't think of that. And in hindsight, I'm glad I didn't. If I don't enjoy them, why waste my time or my hard-drive with them? Still, it's an option and I'll keep it in mind for those CD's with just one great song (you know who you are...). 

The best thing about parting with the CD's was seeing others smile. My brother-in-law put an old Smiths CD in his car and pumped it up in our driveway. I was immediately transported back to my late teens. It almost made me want the CD back, but not quite. I don't want to go back to my late teens in my own home! On his deck, with a beer in my hand, from time to time, sure. My very youthful seventy-something mother-in-law grabbed a handful of the CD's too. Turns out she's a Dwight Yoakam fan.

Another twenty bite the dust.