Rainier cherries vs Fidget Spinners

I told the Spouse that the Rainier cherries were in but they cost something insane, like $12 a pound.  The kid said she wanted some; I told her that I’d already spent $12 on a couple of fidget spinners at the market.

“OK,” she said.  “The best thing is that you don’t just poop out a fidget spinner.”  Yes.  That is the best thing.

Unless you’re this kid.

Image result for child swallows fidget spinner

I’ll bet in retrospect that they wish they’d gone with the cherries. Or perhaps a less expensive fruit without a built-in choking hazard.

“Did she at least get it back?” the kid wondered. “It spins unevenly without it.”  Indeed.

Bye bye, summer, hello homework station

We have very limited space around the house, and the child has an amazing ability to expand her homework, drawing, playing, legos, etc. like one of those sponges you drop into the tub as a capsule before it turns into an enormous…is it a hippo?  Maybe it’s a cougar?  Whatever it is, if you magnified the effect tenfold you’d be approaching the effect.

fallcleanup

Take everything out. Be grateful that you’re done with the cabbage pH experiment, recycle, save folders, replace. Even Poppy approves.

fallcleanup2

Space. The final frontier!

To say goodbye to her last grade and hello to the next, I emptied Ms. A’s homework station, photographed the stuff we wanted to remember and tossed it along with all the detritus of phone lists and science experiments.  I also photographed all of her little art projects, which were brought home in one gigantic portfolio.  It’s difficult to say goodbye to the physical items, but we find that with a few very well chosen exceptions, it’s more convenient to view the treasures online as digital photos then to have them laying around for years becoming faded and dusty.

As a bonus, the dining table looks like a place where people sit to dine!

Backgammon!

I sew, probably too much at this point. I’m prepping for sewing a larger quilt and needed a project for practice. I quilted and bound this sucker with bias tape, which I find a bit cheap and probably won’t use on the bigger quilt. The pips (triangles) were sewn down after my first use of heat’n’bond to nail those suckers down.  I also made a carry bag and little zip for the pieces culled from an old and deteriorating set.

Saving the world — While lowering the risk of Bubonic Plague

compostbinThis morning I ran out to get one of these compost bins up near Griffith Park.  They sell them once a month for $20 and they’re made with loads of recycled stuff, both of which make for a good deal.  If you don’t live in L.A., check if your Bureau of Sanitation offers any kind of subsidized compost bins.

They also offer free compost, which is great if you have a raised bed or something to fill.  We may tap that later…

We’ve been composting for about 20 years thanks to my husband, who knew far more about it than I did when we bought our house.  (The first time I saw the finished compost, I asked him why he added dirt.  For those of you who cannot play a banjo yet, the dirt is the compost when it’s finished.  It’s very nutrient dense too.)

Even so, I have a new little brochure that taught me a few new things: Continue reading

Revisiting the Past

trophymanJust before our child was born, we converted our garage into an office and shoved all that remained in the garage into a shed during the conversion.  Much was thrown away, but much remained.

Unearthing our childhoods was both painful and revealing, with a little pinch of hilarious nostalgia.  But if clutter represents indecision, and I think it does, we have been indecisive about some interesting things in our lives.

I love this tiny man-statue from a spelling bee.  It was a big deal when I was kid.  I dressed up and wore my favorite gaucho pants!  I loved the denim notebook I had very carefully logoed with Ramones, Kiss and the like.  (I photographed it and then tossed it.  There’s love, and there’s insanity, and the wisdom to know the difference when deciding to keep stuff).  I photographed other trophies and the like, then got rid of them. Continue reading

Kids: The hole that is their close and drawers

I could never get my kid to clean her room.  Perhaps it was because it contained roughly double the amount of stuff it could neatly contain (probably more, but I’ll go with that for now).

Mine is the kid that saves everything, treasures it all, and has a memory like an elephant.  There could be no slipping anything more than recyclable paper to the can without detection, misery and a possible trip to the therapist (me or her? you decide).  Cajoling?  Nope.  Threatening?  She stood her ground.

It doesn’t help — in terms of accumulation of crap — that she’s adorable, jubilant, has many interests and friends, and is the only grandchild.

It took me ages to realize that my child’s room wasn’t just overwhelming to me; it was so overwhelming to her that she couldn’t possibly know where to begin.  The kid brushed off the idea that clutter was a problem, so I finally decided to test that idea a bit.   Continue reading

Decluttering: Consider usefulness

It’s very funny how the little things get by me.

I was walking through our kitchen (arguably the room in our house that is now the most organized at this point) one day and realized that the tiny counter in front of the stand mixer was just littered with stuff.  A plastic container filled with just a few raisins, the new bag perched atop, and kitchen timers (yes more than one – both get used) blocked my access.

Meanwhile, the thin, long drawer just below the counter held birthday candles and cake decorating stuff that we use about once a year.  It took just a moment to relocate the few things in the drawer and replace them with the timers  The raisins were walked to the pantry (they’d been on the counter to remind us of their existence.  After 10 years of this, I’m thinking we’ll remember).  Why had I never thought of this?

Considering the usefulness of each item in our home answers the question of priority, and that in turn answers the question “Do I keep this, move it, or toss it?”  Just because something has landed in a drawer doesn’t been it deserves permanent occupancy there.  But I’d never really thought about it, so the small cake decorating kit had a little home while the timers — and raisins! — cluttered the counter.

Which got me thinking about our kitchen towels.

We have no dishwasher and keep our kitchen towels in two bins under a work table.  We use dish cloths to wipe down the dishes, dish towels to dry them, and bar mop towels to wipe down the counters.  I also have tea towels for constant hand wiping while cooking.

The bins were overflowing.  Who needs this many towels?  Who needs this many towels that are mostly over 10 years old?  The old ones were too old to be of any use to anyone else (or us!), so they often were used as bar mop towels, and the kitchen laundry piled up.

I got rid of all of the bar mop and dish-drying towels except 2 newer ones, and kept the newer dish cloths.   The longest lasting, best quality towels were from Williams Sonoma, so I returned there to buy 8 new towels.  I bought 5 new bar-mop towels from Target.  I bought all in white so I could wash them with the bathroom towels in one load. The new towels fit neatly into the bins, and really help dry the dishes effectively (in the winter if we let them air dry, it takes forever to get things put away).

On that note, it’s really very nice to get things put away at the end of the day and not wake up to loads of dishes to put away in the morning.  We have one drainer by the sink, and a collapsible drainer I highly recommend by Progressive for the overflow (dishes brought home late from packed lunches, etc.).  When all is dry, the collapsible drainer goes under the sink.  I’m considering having both drainers be collapsible to allow for more counter room as long as it can be adequately dried by the end of the night (don’t put a wet drainer in a dark place unless you enjoy rapid bacterial growth.  Ick.)

It has been lovely to have a working kitchen where I can spend a good deal of time making my family good food.

Consider the usefulness of the things you use all of the time.  Are they working for you?

Accumulation, Rejuvenation

When we moved into our little house 15+ years ago, we didn’t have that much stuff, because after loading a small U-Haul a few times we simply gave up and the rest of our stuff was either donated or hit the bins.  We had movers carry the three large pieces of furniture we owned: our dining table, bed, and couch.

Our shared closet, once inhabited I presume by a lady willing to share just 6 feet of hanging space with a gentleman, had recently been vacated by an elderly lady who kept 14 lab coats from a job she’d abandoned 20 years earlier, along with her wedding shoes from 60 years previous.  Noting this as a cautionary tale as we viewed what would become our home, I immediately eliminated more than half of my wardrobe.  I began with what I hadn’t worn in 6 months and was down to what I hadn’t worn in about 6 weeks in very little time.

My husband’s wardrobe still landed in the closet of the second bedroom.

Almost from the time we settled in, however, we began accumulating stuff.  We bought living room furniture and bookshelves.  The garage from the former owners contained so much stuff that opening it revealed a wall of objects that ran all the way to the door, which was held aloft by an old wood ski.  Our version soon contained remnants (old letters, old typewriters, anything we couldn’t quite let go of – trophies?!) along the periphery.

You get the picture.  It was minimal, but we were still expanding a bit.

And then came the kid.

Right before her impending arrival, we rearranged the entire house to accommodate her tiny body.  Her minimalist room bearing a crib, changing table and our old armoire was set up.  Our room acquired 3 huge Ikea closets.  The garage was converted into our office.  A shed was added to the backyard to hold remnants of the garage (after a serious purge, during which we found a box of saved wicker baskets which had housed a family of possums.  At least they’d finally been used).

From there things spiraled out of control.  We were very busy with our child.  I got a master’s degree.  My husband got promoted to busier job.

Pretty soon, and abundance of stuff littered every spare space, and I rapidly became very, very unhappy.  After an astonishing 7 years, we’ve started to make the kind of headway (literally) that’s slowly improving my outlook.  An example below: Continue reading