Time to clear a storage filebox for 2012 records…the victim was 2003, long overdue for sunsetting, and it’s always a memory trip when I do that. We were living over on Coeur d’Alene St, we had certain places we went, things we did…trips we took, that show up in the records. There were the epic screwups, the companies that would not believe we did not want to do business with them, the letters, the usual 941 confusion (it took us years to figure out when those reports were due) — and the whole business of a year now lying in little bitty confetti, with all its trials and tribulations: we collect the good bits and take them with us.
Jane went out weeding the back paths while I attacked the office organization prior to corporate taxes, our separate little re-April-15th because we’re on a fiscal year. At least it separates the personal chaos from the corporate chaos. We’re pretty well organized. Just not totally.
And the shredding, of course the shredding. We have a big crosscut shredder, not one of the little wastebasket toppers, and I still kept overheating it.
We went to the gym—had to activate credit cards that had expired over there; and did a bit of a workout; and we’re resolved, as the aquarium mess sorts out, to start throwing things out. I’m taking garbage bags to the basement, and if I don’t see a use for it, out it goes.
Naturally we heralded this resolve by flooding the basement floor—I was tired, I was distracted; I turned on the ro/di water filter for the 32 gallon tub, and didn’t set the kitchen timer when I came up. Result? 32 gallons of water that went onto the floor, and over to the finished side of the basement. So…lots of towels, the dehumidfier turned on, mopping, laundering, drying…
I swear, I double-dog swear I am going on a stuff-removal campaign. We have too much stuff. I am going to start at one end of the basement and go to the other, disposing of things.
Take before pictures. Don’t show them to anyone, unless you really want to prove it’s possible when you finish. Thanks for the reminder. A charity is coming in the morning and I need to finish filling that box.
Bravo, Martha!
I keep charity boxes going constantly. As I find things that still have use, they go in the charity box. My goal is to declutter by Dec. 31, 2013; but I expect that to be Dec., 2014. It is so exciting to see floor. I am also keeping a spreadsheet to track progress.
It is next year and time to part with clothes that don’t fit. When those charities call, you have something they can haul off for you. Now if a certain four-footed security chief would quit chasing skeins of yarn through the house…
I will be “downsizing” in preparation for a move to an apartment this year. I will go from owning my own home, with the taxes and repair costs, but the stability and satisfaction, to leasing an apartment. I haven’t been apartment hunting before. This is going to be a whole new thing.
I get to winnow down the contents of my home to what will fit in an apartment, one or two bedrooms, and hope I guess right. I’ll probably have to downsize further than my initial guess. — I have been dragging my feet on it. I just got done with the legal and financial round and round (and round) a couple of weeks ago.
So… Yes, I will be getting very familiar with my dinky shredder, with boxing and unboxing and re-boxing, and so on. (I have some that’s still in boxes, never was unboxed, now must be, ironically, unboxed, sorted, re-boxed.)
I’ve been trying to find some way to mark boxes very clearly, color coding or other tagging, for what stays, what goes, what is an absolute must (kitchen, bathroom, keepsakes, etc.). — And have come to the conclusion it’s hard to find something to do so easily. — I will be trying printable labels, colored spot labels, colored duct tape or masking tape, just about anything.
I am not yet into “this must be done now, yesterday!” mode. I’m in the, “oh, I dread this awful moving again.” I think the real problem is, I went into some sort of survival or denial mode after my dad passed away, then during my grandmother’s increasing age and illness, and after she passed away. I have been so used to clinging to the edge of that psychological whatever-it-is for so long, that getting back to the self I want to be or think I should be, just isn’t happening yet like it should. The self I used to be? I miss that old self, but I have changed so much, and some of who I was back then *needed* to change, not to be who I was then. I just haven’t quite found what will get me back on track and stay that way. It’s a source of great frustration. (I’d even seek counseling, but can’t afford it. … If I could afford it, one of the major blocks on progress wouldn’t be there, simply because budget’s a blockage.)
However, as I’ve gone through things, so far in fits and starts, it’s been a great adventure for the cats, who find it enormously entertaining. (Ooh, boxes! Stuff to pounce and play in!) And that has helped me. 🙂
Some things will be such easy decisions. Others… may require more than one iteration. It may require putting some things aside and going through them again as I make progress.
Heh, basic, weekly errands tomorrow, then back to get something accomplished, I hope, that will lead to a better income soon. (Other things, if not soon, eventually.) — Font design, then some study on EPUB, and then some time to write or draw. Hoping to get past the latest “now what?” in my writing. Really wish my writing would stay on one story until completion. — That, being scattered, or feeling stuck, are two of my main frustrations lately. Gotta find a way through those.
A friend of mine used printable labels (and found that they don’t always stick reliably – get lots of packing tape). He numbered the boxes, and made lists keyed to the numbers of what was in them. I wrote on mine, but what it says on the outside isn’t necessarily what’s in there now. (I have the don’t-need-it stuff in a storage unit, along with the somewhere-in-a-box stuff.)
Apartment living has some very nice aspects. We enjoyed our first one. Beware of balconies with slats: we had a smoker downstairs, and her smoke wafted up to our a/c unit. A balcony is a great thing, though, if solid! We preferred upstairs, top level: exciting in the earthquake, but at least there’s no footsteps up there but people you know, and no one above you. Avoid doors on stairwells: everybody gets to hear extended goodbyes and goodnights if doors all open on the stairwell: if everybody’s on a walkway instead, and stairs are only for coming and going, much better. And if they have a background check policy for the apartment, a good thing. This is our collected wisdom from apartment living! Pick one with your bedroom on the balcony side, not the walkway side! Our old Coeur d’Alene digs was great—had all those features. And if you can get a good neighbor or two, and exchange pet-sitting, even better. Many apartments will take cats that don’t allow dogs, because of the barking problem. (Heaven help us, we had a weimaraner next door with abandonment issues… 😉 He took out their patio door screen. But he mellowed.)
We’ve been in this house since 1998, and “things” have accumulated. I’ve started trying to winnow out what we’re not using, but it’s a 4 bedroom house for (now) two people so there’s way too much room to stash things in out of the way places. There’s a bedroom that has sort of collected the clothes that aren’t the size I am now (both too small and too large), and when I find another candidate for Goodwill/Salvation Army, it goes in that bedroom. Our goal this year is to get all the bedrooms empty enough so we could actually have guests in them, not just storage.
I’ll be at my mom’s house next week and she has her stuff, her mother’s stuff, her aunt’s stuff, and my sisters stuff all in a small 3 bedroom house (and backyard storage shed). I always come back from trips home ready to do serious cleaning out around here.
You know, it’s odd. I felt strangely “at home” in my tiny college dorm room, even during one cold winter spell and an odd roommate or two. (I was not the easiest roommate either, back then. Too uptight.) or despite personal issues or family distractions. (Huh, should’ve accepted myself back then.)
But somehow, that tiny space felt more like home, mine, than my own home, which was not the home I grew up in, but very nice.
I know an apartment is the best choice, even if I can later buy a home again.
So possibly, I’ll really like it. It’s just… What, nerves? Inertia? Not wanting to give up what I have, despite the current problems? Well, in any case, I’ll be moving when I can, with two cats who will be very puzzled at first. 🙂 between now and then, much must happen.
Hah, currently have both cats at my feet, blessed out, together as a pride with me. The human needs to learn from them.
I’ve done this several times… First, clear out the smallest room you are not living in; stack it anywhere. The only things that can be let back in are definite keepers which are not furniture. With that sorted, and probably another thing or two as well, move to the next room and repeat. Keep it furniture can go in here, but definitely keep other stuff still goes in the first room. When what comes out of those two rooms is sorted and the excess sold, or given, or tossed, you will at last be able to think. I have trouble with other peoples things, it doesn’t feel fair to get rid of them without asking, but since you seem to be alone except for your pride, it is all essentially your stuff…
BCS I know exactly what you mean, about being at home in a space.
I don’t know the technical term for your discomfort but I’ve done that too – you get used to a certain place, a certain way, and it’s hard to break out of that. Some people call it being in a rut, though I don’t really agree with the connotations that brings.
I sorta like cleaning stuff out. Well, I suppose what I really mean is that I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment when it’s over. I cuss and grumble plenty while I’m actually cleaning! But I’ve cleaned out the garage for my housekeeping job. Twice. The first time there was a ton of stuff. No, literally, one ton, they weighed it when we took the detritus to the city dump; and that was after we’d removed the things charity would take and the things that could be taken to the recycling center or sold for scrap.
Cleanout round three is coming – far less actual items this time. The critical challenge, this round, is converting attic space from useless to usable, and as I can’t get into the attic (I get on the ladder and suffer a panic attack), well, I’m forced to wait on others to help out. Of course, no one wants to tackle the job! Ha! Fortunately this isn’t something I’ll get in trouble for not doing; the lady of the house is most understanding. So long as the meals arrive on time and the kitchen and public spaces are acceptable, all else is left to my discretion as far as scheduling, etc.
Sometimes I whine to myself about budget and income problems – but I confess I’m grateful to have such a not-bossy boss.
If I lived anywhere nearby, though, CJ, I’d so come help you! I’m good at it 😛
Thank you, Hawke!
TO add to our joys today, the a/c isn’t working. Remember when we got the new furnace? We think they missed a wire in the hookup to the thermostat, but since they installed this thermostat, we can’t figure how to get it off the wall intact, and there’s no wiring diagram in the lit they gave us. But here we are with the heat adjustment on the marine tank at a critical phase and no a/c, the air conditioning/heating people swear they’re coming this afternoon, and Jane and I have an interview with some people doing publicity for the Spokane Worldcon Bid this afternoon, and I just want to scream. I had my own panic attack last night as the heat went up and I realized what a mess we’re in.
Re houses and handedness, Jane and I had a ‘short list’ of 80 houses in Spokane, and a long-suffering and very good realtor…when we started looking. We were in no hurry, give or take the armed police takedown at our front door, and people gathering in the stairwell at night…(shut your ears, BCS: don’t get that kind of apartment)and the railroad trains that sounded like dinosaur mating season from dusk til dawn…
We visited houses that had been speakeasies, converted barns that (looking like House Beautiful) still smelled of hay and horse manure, a house with a basement set of bedrooms built for Snow White’s 7 dwarfs; one ‘almost’ that was neat, a revamped house from 1890 that was, unfortunately in a ‘targeted’ loan zone, ie, they have a lot of crime and want good people badly; and we looked at a house ‘flip’ where they had taken an 1890’s farmhouse and totally pimped it up with bad DIY, paint runs on the woodwork, carpet that didn’t meet the baseboards…the flippers must’ve lost their shirt on that one, and it’s now an eyesore in the neighborhood, painted bright yellow and with sheets on the windows; and then our realtor, bless her, showed us one that wasn’t on our list, with yuck-green walls, horrid drapes, painted fireplace that didn’t work, brown shag carpet, and a totally white kitchen, floor, counters…with George Jetson angled cabinet drawers. but…it felt right. It just felt right. Jane and I loved it. We had to call a bluff and challenge the guy who had an option on it to buy now or not, and we won it. Always felt bad about that, but then, we were ready to buy, and he wasn’t, and the seller wanted to sell. So there we were: house. Which has become what we have now. We repainted before we moved in, with the help of friends, and we later removed the lawn in favor of what we have now. And it’s been great. This is the house. If you offered us a McMansion, we’d just say we prefer the mortgage on this one paid off instead, thanks. And we’re very glad that the neighborhood has held up. People that have moved it have tended to be interested in fixing up.
On “Ask This Old House” recently they installed a timer valve on the washing machine hoses. Push the lever to on and there’s water, but it starts counting down and 2hrs later it shuts off the water automagically. I’ve seen similar things for hose bibs/spigots–dial up the watering time (or is it gallons?) and a propeller in the flow gradually winds the valve closed.
There MUST be a kitchen timer/electrical switch device somewhere. The need is just too common not to have been filled. 🙂
(Re preventing floods.) Interesting notion. I could also install a simple float valve on the tank, which would cut it off, but there’s no way to ensure sufficient purity on the equipment to lab-grade, unless I sprang for a marine tank float valve, and then I’d have more troubles trying to rig it.
I do have a water alarm, but we were in too much of a hurry to install the battery and deploy it…I think I’m going to advance that as an option after this.
That’s the good thing about an electrical power switch on a timer–none of it has to touch, i.e. contaminate, your water–it just switches off power to the pump. If not online, I think a good old-fashioned hardware store should have such a thing, again if not the new “big box” Lowes/Home Depot.
Speaking of floods… Sunday I was running laundry, and noticed a quiet rush of noise coming from the feed pipes, like what you hear when a tap is running somewhere. Except that no faucets were on. Roaming the house, inside and out, listening on various pipes (the old mechanic’s expedient of sticking a large screwdriver on a suspect part and listening), and finally checking the water meter confirmed one of my worst fears: we have a water leak somewhere. At least not inside (no damp spots), but that means probably one of the supply lines outside has developed a pinhole. I managed to narrow it down to an area around the laundry/storage room, but that’s the lines for 2 outside taps, the laundry room, and the water heater, as well as the main house feed. It rained Monday morning, so going around and looking for a soggy spot, or a place where the weeds are unusually lush, won’t work. I may have to call a plumber with the equipment to hunt this thing down. Meanwhile, anyone know any good tricks for finding outside plumbing leaks?
Oh, joy!
Underground leaks are no fun to find at all: usually soggier than elsewhere is your best hint.
I am SOOOOOO looking forward to grubbing out the overgrowth of firecracker bush along the foundation at that point, which may or may not be concealing the leak 😛
I had a bed of Oregon grape that was 2′ X 50′ that I wanted to take out. At the time I had a steel cable with towing hooks at each end so I hooked one end to the pickup and hooked several dallies around the stems and drove off a few feet, backed up, tossed the brush into the pickup bed, and repeated. Twenty or thirty minutes later – Voila! Our nosy neighbor was totally dumbfounded when he came back from a short errand and saw the results. I’ll warn you up front about my gardening advice though, my favorite gardening tools are a come-along and a chain saw with a brush guard.
You mean “salal”? These days “Oregon grape” is likely to mean Pinot Noir! 🙂
Gurk! I’ll probably use the hedge trimmer to whack it down to a few inches above ground level, then look for dampness. If it’s not wet, the leak is probably elsewhere, it needed trimming anyhow, and I’ll revisit yanking it out wholesale later. I’m worried about using the mattock to pull the roots; if the pipe does run in that area, I don’t want to accidentally poke a hole in it and create a (new) leak. If the leak is in that pipe, I’m seriously thinking of just capping it, at least temporarily. The only thing I use that standpipe for is washing the car.
I recall the shredders we used while I was in the Navy. They didn’t seem like a lot, there was a single roller at the bottom of a chute formed by steel plates spaced 1/32″ apart. The roller would pull the paper down and its pressure against the plates would act like a scissors. I’m trying to remember how it actually looked and functioned, but the last time I saw one was well over 25 years ago. They used a 1/2 HP electric motor, were chain-driven, and if you put your hand near the sprocket, you could get a nasty bite. We had to oil them every so often, and while they were rated for 10 sheets of paper at once, you didn’t put that much into the slot, or you’d end up reversing, pulling pages apart, and putting about half of them back through. We used those shredders for Top Secret stuff, as well as the cryptographic key cards, so they got plenty of use. Nice thing was, you could recycle the paper. Bad thing was, there were no recycling facilities in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I looked up the cost in the Navy Supply Catalog – $2,000.00……I bought a B & D shredder at Wal-Mart for about $80, it’s still not as durable, nor cuts as fine as the ones we had in the Navy, but, it does for my purposes.
Ours is a crosscut rated for 15 sheets: we burned out several smaller ones, but it was about, I think, 200.00… It’s not that we believe secret agents would assemble those strips and steal our secrets—it’s that crosscut is actually tougher and less jammable than a strip shredder, and produces far less volume. OTOH, if you discover you just shredded your car papers, you’re SOL!
We have a slightly smaller one than Joe described – 1/3 HP made by Cummins in Chicago. It’s very old, unbelievably heavy, and has forward & reverse. Spouse picked it up for a couple of bucks at an auction because it was “broken”. All it needed was a thorough lubrication. I’ll be long gone before this thing dies.
These shredders had a metal box enclosing the mechanics. You slid the papers into a slot on top of the box, and it ground away. I’m not worried about anyone stealing my secrets – I’m on Facebook, remember? But when you’re talking about National Security, and peoples’ lives hang in the balance if you compromise that stuff, uh, no piece is too small…..
No piece is too small, then you burn the pieces and crush them, then you wet them thoroughly and stir…
if we were underway, we’d hang the bag over the fantail and dump the shreddings into the wake. There’s a really good mix, when you’ve got 2 8-foot diameter screws churning in opposite directions. If you’re onboard a BIG ship, you’ve got 4 screws, probably about 12 feet in diameter, if not larger.
I don’t think they’d have much luck retrieving and reassembling those….
That’s the idea. We also had mulchers, which were continuous feed garbage disposers, and those made a gooey paste of the shreddings. Talk about overkill. Me, I’d rather recycle them, but still those little pink pieces of paper stand out.