The Tyranny of Stuff

I have written before in these pages how I have an ongoing battle with the stuff that fills up my home. If it isn't food hiding in the back of my fridge or cupboard, it's junk accumulating in my basement or shed. I'm not quite sure why this happens, but I collect stuff like a damn magnet.

Every year around this time I get a kind of panicky frantic feeling, like I am getting short of breath and can't concentrate. I have to fight the urge to call up one of those construction debris places and rent a big garbage bin – the kind that has to be brought and taken away via flatbed truck – to park outside a window, and just start turfing. Imagine the freedom. If I could somehow be assured that someone will go through that bin at the other end and remove all of the re-useable and recyclable stuff, recycle it all properly and donate the rest of it to a good cause, I would sign up immediately.

I once read link after link after link about the phenomenon of hoarding. One thing stuck with me: that often the hoarding behavior starts with an uncertainty about how to properly dispose of something. I would add to that that it's not only uncertainty, but also laziness, because it often takes a lot more effort to dispose of something than it does to acquire it. Especially since in most cases, the bloom is off the rose; it's an object that we no longer want to deal with in any capacity, so we toss it into a corner and try to forget about it.

Sometimes I admire the people I see in magazines or whatever, who live in homes free of knickknacks. I think "wow how liberating, look how much space they have to breathe and think, how relaxed they must feel. Look at how much potential there is. Look at the well-placed objects on those mostly-empty shelves." But then I feel kind of sad for them, that they're not surrounded by the things they love or that make them happy to look at. I imagine they too must have closets or storage lockers full of old school assignments and stuffed toys missing eyes and clothes that don't quite fit anymore.

A lot of our problem lies in knickknack acquisition. When you have interests and those interests are made public, people latch onto them and that becomes the thing they know about you. And they shop accordingly, for all birthdays and Christmases forever into eternity. Take, for example, my husband's love of fishing. Hubby is a world-class fishing nut. He thinks about fishing about 78.5 times a day, I'm sure. When people meet him and talk with him for more than an hour, they come away with the knowledge that he is a man who loves fish. However, this does not mean that he necessarily loves fish boxer shorts, fish notecards, fish xmas lights, fish carvings, fish poems, fish pens, fish keychains and the BigMouth Billy Bass™. A short list of fish things that he actually likes could include: nerdy vintage fish science textbooks that are impossible to find, actual smoked fish, fish t-shirts that he picks himself (to wear fishing), very very very specific fishing lures that are also impossible to find, and fish taxidermy. Similarly, people know that I like dogs (more recently) and cats (formerly). So I have a ton of humour books about cats, cat notepads, a Crazy Cat Lady doll set, etc etc the list goes on.

Here is a list of things that I am actually into: storage containers, household organizers, high-end vacuum cleaners, garbage cans, and my kid.

I have recently discovered a whole new angle on this stuff-acquisition problem: having a child. People LOOOVE to shop for kids, myself included. Every week at least one new thing enters our home, aimed at Nora. Admittedly a lot of the stuff I acquire is clothing – I never in my life imagined how much clothing we could go through. Sometimes I think "enough! She has 1,800 pairs of pants and that is enough!" but then all of a sudden I go to get a pair and there are only 2 in the drawer, both of them too short. Then I feel the pull of Old Navy tugging at me. The seasons change and I realize that for this short in-between season we actually need hoodies, cardigants, splash pants, bigger rain boots, a rain coat, and toss in an umbrella for fun. Summer is coming. Great right? Smaller clothing, less of it? Nope: new bathing suit, life jacket, water shoes, sandals, sunscreen, a larger sun hat, etc etc etc.

I also realize that about half of all clothing I got for her before she was born is redundant and fits the wrong season. A lot of the things we received as gifts have never been worn or worn only once, because it was too big last summer and this summer it'll be way too small, or it just never suited her at all (too girly, too squat, etc). That's the way it goes. I kind of have to get her clothes 'à la minute' because I never can tell when the spurts will happen. I feel badly that a lot of these things have been wasted. It keeps bringing to mind the big question of 'will I have another one?' but that is another topic for another day. I save the clothes in case I or someone very close to me has a(nother) baby, and it makes me weepy and sentimental to go through them, but some of the less-special things can be given away. Because, after all, it is super fun to buy new baby clothes.

However, the toys are officially out of control. She's starting to get to the point where she can't possibly play with them all and some of them are being forgotten. The cottage is the solve-all for this and other storage issues – she will need to have a small set of toys to play with up there during quiet times away from the lake and the great outdoors. Stuffed toys for her room, a ride-on toy for the deck, a selection of books - I am not hauling toys back and forth so this venture will inject some novelty into the whole thing. Some of the toys are really 'baby' toys and can be put away under the cover of night, when she will never notice they are gone. Lately all she wants to play with are rocks and pinecones anyway.

Ultimately, I think this is the answer to my problems: forget the spring cleaning. Wait for the cottage. Stock the cottage full of stuff I've already got, that we've been hoarding for years in anticipation of this moment, and then re-assess. In the fall, rent that garbage bin and be mercenary about the whole thing. Stick to my guns. Donate household stuff to the local community centre's second-hand 'shop', clothes to value village, books to the library. Pitch the old computer. Recycle old magazines I'm not going to 'get to later ' and cancel the subscriptions (keep Martha for inspiration). Make a pact that when we buy a new thing we get rid of the old thing, don't just put it downstairs and forget about it. Try on clothes before buying them so I can see if they really don't fit or flatter. Buy good products instead of many products. Don't acquire things we won't definitely use within a year. Don't buy anything without assessing whether or not I already have that thing or something that can be used in its place. Don't pick up other peoples' garbage. I am going to make a list of these points, print it out, and leave it all over the house.

It's going to be an uphill battle but I think we can do it.

Helloooo Internet

So the thing with having a blog is that you actually have to WRITE in it once in awhile.

I'm not going to apologize for not showing the love to my blog lately. I have been busy. I have been a busy little bee and you know what? I have also been sick for 48 years. Never mind that I am only 36, they are 48 figurative years. 48 long, long, figurative, very sick and snotty years.

I knew Nora would get sick a lot, and she has (she is sick again right now, as a matter of fact!) I was smug enough to assume that since I'm an adult with an adult immune system and I go to work every day and do adult stuff (not that adult stuff), I wouldn't get sick as often. I was partially right, because while I haven't been sick often, the illness I did get has had a stranglehold on me for about 3.78 weeks now. And that's no exaggeration. I think I have actually had three colds in that time, that keep cycling through my bent and battered body. My immune system has started to wave the white flag, the flag that says "enough! I know you are self-righteous enough to believe that the medical establishment is kind of up to no good, but girl, it is time to seek out antibiotics!" The left side of my face wants to be rescued. I want to taste food again, and my coworkers want to stop hearing the sounds of snot exiting my body.

Through this illness, I managed to host a 'jury' at work. When I say I'm in jury people get excited and expect me to give juicy details of gory trials or something, but really they are meetings at which groups of artists decide which other groups of artists get to have money for their projects. They are, nonetheless, intense experiences, where we sit in a darkened room for 8 hours at a time, 5 days in a row, and discuss/debate/lightly argue about art and I am tasked with the duty of keeping pace and keeping peace. Also tasked with the final process of who-gets-what. I like it, but this time around, I was so sick that already on Monday afternoon I was picturing what it'd be like if one of my committee members (who I'd only just met) had to suddenly give me CPR. I could not breathe. I had to take frequent bathroom breaks to blow my now-raw-and-zitty nose, and in the dark I was holding my forehead just so, to try to 'break' the pain somehow. It was kind of miserable.

Also, we have been pushing through to the end of winter. It's decently warm outside (some would say dangerously unseasonable but I'll take it this year, I hated winter so hard) and the snow is melting, and I feel like the end is in sight. The last bit has been a tough slog, as Nora went through a stomach flu, a cold, then gave me the cold, then got the cold again (along with my father and hubby), and now she's getting over THAT cold but I am still sick. Or sick again. I have been taking care of illnesses for what feels like forever.

We've been making some progress on this cottage project, however, despite the illness. Through February, we've been meeting with our builder and have finally settled on a bunch of things that needed to be settled before we begin (cost, timeline, final design). I have also received the septic evaluation, so we can move forward with the building permits etc, which (fingers crossed) are ridiculously easy to get in our municipality. Rick, the guy in charge of that sort of thing, is super affable and knows me from my brother-in-law's build, and he likes me. So that should go pretty well. I have a meeting with the bank tomorrow, and have made some adjustments to my insurances etc. to save some dollars here and there. I will present this project to you in full detail once we're further along. We hope to get started in May.

I have discovered, in the past few months, the joy of carpooling. It has its drawbacks as well, of course – I am less flexible when it comes to leaving work early, taking days off, and running errands after work - but I carpool with a super nice gang of locals and we have formed our own little group. For a couple of us, it has sadly become our social life, this coming and going from work. Other advantages include reduced cost of parking, reduced gas usage, reduced mileage on my car, and we get to take the carpool lanes, which allow us to zoom past traffic and get to and from work pretty quickly. I love my carpool. Highlight of my day (my workday, that is). Our kids all kind of go to daycare together too, so it's a double-nice community thing, this carpool.

And then there is Nora. Sweet Nora, who can now talk quite a bit and is really super hammy. I love the personality she has become. She is small and feisty and stubborn and knows what she wants, but at the same time she's quiet and has a wisdom about her that I appreciate. She isn't noisy. She doesn't complain much. She sort of quietly processes stuff and then throws it back out at you later, when you least expect it. She has the wisdom of the ages that one. You get the impression, when communicating with her, that she doesn't suffer fools and can see right through your crap. She definitely sees through all the tricks I use to try to get her dressed and fed. She is also currently embroiled in a deep love affair with Elmo. Elmo has been helping us motivate Nora to do things she might not otherwise want to do, like eat her supper, or have her diaper changed. It's often the first thing she says when she gets up in the morning ("Elmo?" as in 'are you there Elmo?') often followed by "Oma?" because my mom bought her an Elmo doll. So now it's "Elmo? Oma?" and then when I explain that yes, Oma gave you Elmo, and Oma is at her house with Buppy (my dad), she says, nodding, "Elmo. Oma. Oma Buppy?" She is starting to sound like David Letterman hosting the Oscars – "Uma – Oprah – Uma – Oprah."

I have been spending lots of time online, even though I haven't been good at this blog-writing thing. I discovered Pinterest, which holds my attention for about a half hour a day. I use it mainly to collect ideas for this cottage we want to build. I have also been spending time on facebook (of course, mostly chatting with my mom. Hi Mom!) and on Gawker, which is where I choose to get my news. My snarky news. I surf Etsy quite a lot since I discovered it has a vintage section. It is way more up-market than Ebay, which is now like the equivalent of those flea markets full of people who sell bags of socks and bootlegged DVDs. I read a great blog on www.Babble.com written by Samantha Bee and Alanna Harkin called "Eating Over the Sink", and March Fug Madness has begun on www.gofugyourself.com. That, in addition to all the regular news and gossip sites, pretty much makes up my internet profile of late.

That's a snapshot of me at this moment. I am wearing a grey-striped boatneck sweater, black dress pants with an awkward and unfortunate tie-belt situation in the front, and black socks, and am sitting at my desk with my legs folded under me, chewing gum because I forgot to brush my teeth this morning. My hair is up in an "I need a haircut" clip, disguised as a messy French twist. I have no makeup on, as it would interfere with the aforementioned nose-blowing. Pretty huh? So that's where I'm at right now, internets. See ya next time.