Actually, impatience is one of my greater vices. If I want something to happen, I want it at once.
And now I am forced to wait for my hair to grow back in. While my hair is, fortunately, growing relatively fast, relative in that case still means at least a month before I can have anything like a presentable hairdo again. And there´s no way I can accelerate that.
So, all I can do is hurry up and wait.
Which is a great metaphor for a lot of things in life that take their time to grow and ripen.
We´d never think of berating an apple for not being ripe the day after the tree first bloomed, or of being angry at the sun for not rising faster.
Why, then, are we so impatient when it comes to our own projects?
Part of it is perhaps due to the general disconnect between our technorati city dweller lives and nature. How many of us do still have the experience of something growing instead of buying it fully grown? Even the flowers and herbs I put on my balcony were raised from their seeds elsewhere and by someone else.
The other part is connected with the notion that one should be and have, in everything, the fastest. Whether it is computers or cell phones, cars or PDAs, we act as if we had to withdraw the time they take to work from an account somewhere, which we can fill by "saving" time.
That term, "time-saving devices", is actually about the biggest hoax around, because you cannot save time.It runs away from you mercilessly, one minute at a time, and the "saved" time will be gone tomorrow just like the not-saved time. The only thing we buy with those devices is a chance to cram that time full with even more activities.
And while we are all given the same 24 hours every day, we act as if we had simultaneously been given an assignment of putting as much activity as possible into these hours.
Non-pleasurable activity, aka work, to be exact.
Under that premise, having to wait for something is approaching an insult.
So, we keep running faster in our respective hamster wheels- until we collapse.
As patients in a hospital, we then have to re-learn patience.
Of course, we could also get off the wheel before we collapse. We could admit to ourselves that having and doing everything is impossible for us mere humans, and that some things have to be done linearly, which means, yes, they take their time.
Perhaps we should take our time back, too, and find out what it feels like to have patience before we´re forced to.
Julia
2011/05/31
2011/05/30
Tell that to the marines...
There are some things that one shouldn´t do in a hurry. I found out this weekend that cutting one´s hair is one of them. I wear my hair rather short for practical reasons, and do my own haircut with an electric buzzer every two or three months or so. Now, on Friday morning I decided to give my ´do a quick once-over at the longest setting. Without putting my glasses on. So I only realized that the plastic part that keeps the blades at the correct cutting distance from my scalp wasn´t where it should be when I had already cut an ugly stripe across the top of my head.
I did cut the remaining hair rather short to minmize the difference, but the damage is done. And the resulting hairdo looks a lot like what you see on soldiers right after entering boot camp....
The kicker being that I have to stay presentable for professional reasons. So, the first way, after donning an old knit cap that I found in a drawer somewhere, was to the mall for some knit basques which will cover up the damage until my hair has grown in again.The alternative, calling in sick, was out of the question.
I only hope that it´s true what they say about hair growing faster in summer.
Until then I´ll have to put up with these hats.
And the curious stares of people who wonder why I am wearing them.
And all that for a short moment of inattention.
Luckily, DH was rather sympathetic. But he insists I grow my hair a bit longer next time...:).
The lesson from that? I must, obviously, never do anything without my glasses on.
As for diet and decluttering, nothing much happened over the weekend.
I managed not to overeat too badly in spite of being mega frustrated, but apart from that, the whole weekend was spent doing laundry. And enjoying our little balcony garden.
The herbs and geraniums have taken root nicely. In the evening, the fragance from the potted rosemary and lavender bushes perfumes the air. I´m glad we have rediscovered this piece of paradise this year. We even had breakfast and dinner outside yesterday.
I´m lucky to have some days off already planned for so I´ll be able to stay away from the office for about a week and a half, and I just hope the uncalled-for crew cut will have grown out a bit by then.
As it is, I probably need that time off. That kind of careless mistake is what happens when you´re exhausted.
So, some rest and recreation is well in order.
Hoping there´ll not be any more catastrophes pending....
Julia
I did cut the remaining hair rather short to minmize the difference, but the damage is done. And the resulting hairdo looks a lot like what you see on soldiers right after entering boot camp....
The kicker being that I have to stay presentable for professional reasons. So, the first way, after donning an old knit cap that I found in a drawer somewhere, was to the mall for some knit basques which will cover up the damage until my hair has grown in again.The alternative, calling in sick, was out of the question.
I only hope that it´s true what they say about hair growing faster in summer.
Until then I´ll have to put up with these hats.
And the curious stares of people who wonder why I am wearing them.
And all that for a short moment of inattention.
Luckily, DH was rather sympathetic. But he insists I grow my hair a bit longer next time...:).
The lesson from that? I must, obviously, never do anything without my glasses on.
As for diet and decluttering, nothing much happened over the weekend.
I managed not to overeat too badly in spite of being mega frustrated, but apart from that, the whole weekend was spent doing laundry. And enjoying our little balcony garden.
The herbs and geraniums have taken root nicely. In the evening, the fragance from the potted rosemary and lavender bushes perfumes the air. I´m glad we have rediscovered this piece of paradise this year. We even had breakfast and dinner outside yesterday.
I´m lucky to have some days off already planned for so I´ll be able to stay away from the office for about a week and a half, and I just hope the uncalled-for crew cut will have grown out a bit by then.
As it is, I probably need that time off. That kind of careless mistake is what happens when you´re exhausted.
So, some rest and recreation is well in order.
Hoping there´ll not be any more catastrophes pending....
Julia
2011/05/26
No-yo-yo
I wasn´t only away from the web, but also away from my trusty scales for some time, and I was rather apprehensive about what I might see there this morning.
After all, we had been visiting with MIL who is well into her eighties and sometimes needs a lot of encouragement to eat more, which means that I simply cannot stick to my usual eating plan when there. Instead, in an attempt to whet the old lady´s appetite, there were all kinds of things on the table that usually don´t make it into my kitchen in the first place. Things like cake, or the traditional (read high-fat) sausage and pork dishes she grew up on. I have tried to follow my own advice on dealing with that kind of situation, but, admittedly, did take more than a nibble from those goodies.
So, I hopped on the scale and- I have gained, of course, but the damages are relatively minor, less than a pound.
Still, considering that I had gone up by five pounds already before that trip, it´s strictly low-carb again, at least for now.
Having to lose the same five pounds over again is frustrating, as is the fact that, with the plateau I´d been having and the gain, I am by now in total ten pounds above where I had planned on being today, and I can, most likely, kiss my all-year WL target good-bye, too.
I don´t like this at all.
On top of things, there´s been a warning issued by the local surgeon general equivalent against eating, of all things,fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and leafy greens, because of something called EHEC which is like salmonella only more dangerous going around.
Well, that´s where my trusty freezer will come to the rescue.
And maybe these five pounds will leave soon, too. After all, I did it once, I can do it again.
Julia
After all, we had been visiting with MIL who is well into her eighties and sometimes needs a lot of encouragement to eat more, which means that I simply cannot stick to my usual eating plan when there. Instead, in an attempt to whet the old lady´s appetite, there were all kinds of things on the table that usually don´t make it into my kitchen in the first place. Things like cake, or the traditional (read high-fat) sausage and pork dishes she grew up on. I have tried to follow my own advice on dealing with that kind of situation, but, admittedly, did take more than a nibble from those goodies.
So, I hopped on the scale and- I have gained, of course, but the damages are relatively minor, less than a pound.
Still, considering that I had gone up by five pounds already before that trip, it´s strictly low-carb again, at least for now.
Having to lose the same five pounds over again is frustrating, as is the fact that, with the plateau I´d been having and the gain, I am by now in total ten pounds above where I had planned on being today, and I can, most likely, kiss my all-year WL target good-bye, too.
I don´t like this at all.
On top of things, there´s been a warning issued by the local surgeon general equivalent against eating, of all things,fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and leafy greens, because of something called EHEC which is like salmonella only more dangerous going around.
Well, that´s where my trusty freezer will come to the rescue.
And maybe these five pounds will leave soon, too. After all, I did it once, I can do it again.
Julia
2011/05/13
Bump!
reposting this because it looks like Blogger ate it....
Sometimes it looks as if just rejoicing that something has been done properly or some kind of goal has been achieved is enough to warp the time-space-continuum into a little bump to remind us not to rest on our laurels.
Case in point, after recently rejoicing in the loss of twenty kilograms of fat, I had to find out that as soon as the warm weather is back, the water retention I had believed would be gone when I lost weight is back, too.
So, this morning saw me facing the water music (not the one by Handel, unfortunately) to a tune of a 2.7 kilogram gain from last week. I know that is mostly water because my legs are swollen, and I´ll be rid of it if I get rid of that edema.
Still, I started the day somewhat grumpy.
That bump in my weight loss curve represents two months of effort gone just like that.
This has to stop before my wedding band gets too tight.
Julia
Sometimes it looks as if just rejoicing that something has been done properly or some kind of goal has been achieved is enough to warp the time-space-continuum into a little bump to remind us not to rest on our laurels.
Case in point, after recently rejoicing in the loss of twenty kilograms of fat, I had to find out that as soon as the warm weather is back, the water retention I had believed would be gone when I lost weight is back, too.
So, this morning saw me facing the water music (not the one by Handel, unfortunately) to a tune of a 2.7 kilogram gain from last week. I know that is mostly water because my legs are swollen, and I´ll be rid of it if I get rid of that edema.
Still, I started the day somewhat grumpy.
That bump in my weight loss curve represents two months of effort gone just like that.
This has to stop before my wedding band gets too tight.
Julia
Am I in already?
That´s what they made a rather famous tennis player say in a commercial for an important European internet provider.
Today, that´s a bit ironic as far as Blogger is concerned. The server was down for most of the day, and I don´t know how long it will be up again. So, quickly, before I am losing the connection again- I will, for the next couple of days, be mostly away from the internet and consequently unable to post. It´s just a short break, I´ll be back in two weeks at most. Maybe I´ll be able to squeeze in a quickie post before that, but if I don´t-
<insert voice of James Earl Jones here> I´ll be back!
And there´s no need to worry about me.
I wish everyone a good continuation in their ventures, be they weight- or clutter-related,
see y´all later,
Julia
Today, that´s a bit ironic as far as Blogger is concerned. The server was down for most of the day, and I don´t know how long it will be up again. So, quickly, before I am losing the connection again- I will, for the next couple of days, be mostly away from the internet and consequently unable to post. It´s just a short break, I´ll be back in two weeks at most. Maybe I´ll be able to squeeze in a quickie post before that, but if I don´t-
<insert voice of James Earl Jones here> I´ll be back!
And there´s no need to worry about me.
I wish everyone a good continuation in their ventures, be they weight- or clutter-related,
see y´all later,
Julia
2011/05/11
The home improvement kind of minimalism
"If you refuse to accept anything but the very best you will very often get it." That quote (I think it´s by Somerset Maugham) is perhaps the epitome of what minimalism is about. Accept, in your life, nothing but the very best.
But what can that mean in a world where, as my Grandma used to put it, "there´s more make-doers than well-livers"? All too often we have to make do with what we have, and then, the makeshift, suboptimal solutions we chose become permanent because we never take the time to check whether they are still appropriate, or whether there would be a way to improve on them.
This permanence of the provisory does sometimes cause us to live in surroundings we would not chose if we had to make the choice for the first time.
Case in point- both DH and I had, long before we met, built our respective households, complete with cutlery, cookware, bed linens, furniture, and what else is needed for living. And, as we were both poor students when we started our own households, we both had a fair share of hand-me-downs and extremely cheap items that were sometimes barely doing what they were supposed to do, or were just ugly. At a time when we had no alternatives, these things had to suffice. And, being extra frugal, we kept them even though their inadequacies were glaringly obvious.
About two years ago, the plastic tablecloth we used on our dinner table, which was already bleached-out and dingy, got caught on one of the chairs and ended up with a big tear on the side.
The crazy part is that I was, for a moment, tempted to do a provisory repair on it with duct tape from the underside. On a tablecloth that had been cheap when I bought it, and which would even after the repair look ugly. When I made myself realize that, I took the thing off our table, threw it away and went shopping for a new tablecloth. As luck would have it, there was a sale on table linens at a nearby store, and I found several damask tablecloths in colors that matched our interior.
These damask tablecloths turned out to be the beginning of our journey towards an improved home.
When setting the table with them, I soon found myself choosing the better china or glassware, or taking out the stainless steel design candlesticks that were a wedding present from my colleagues. A little vase with flowers appeared, too, artificial ones, certainly, but still flowers, and very soon I got myself a matching set of cloth napkins, too.
The point here is that I did not have to pay a lot of money to achieve all of this. Some of the items were already there, just not being used because they were kept for some nebulous future occasion, and others were, when compared to the things they replaced, not even so much more expensive. What made the difference was that I did decide that for ourselves, we should have the best, or at least, the best we could afford. And that meant that the crystal goblets that had for a long time slumbered in our cupboard because "that´s something for special occasions only" see the light more often today, and that the mustard glasses I had collected as a student to use as water glasses have long ago gone to recycling.
After all, if I already own something, in terms of frugality, it´s free. By finally using the things I kept for a future occasion, I could improve my surroundings for free.
And, let´s face it, if the said nebulous future occasion hasn´t arisen in the ten or twenty years I have had those goblets, it´s very likely that it may never come. And what, then, are those goblets good for except collecting dust and taking up space?
So, I use them. That may mean they might break, but until then, I have a lot more enjoyment from using them than from having them inside my cupboard.
These damask tablecloths did start a kind of chain reaction, actually. I am, since their appearance in our household, continuously looking for other ways where I can, at a relatively minor cost, improve on our surroundings. The new blinds or the dustbins are just two examples.
But I am not obsessive about it.
There are still plenty of things to improve or exchange for which we have not found a replacement yet. And these we will live with until the right replacement comes along.
What I will try to avoid is settling for less than the optimum in the things I bring into our lives.
If what I want is a leather-padded couch it´s a waste of money to bring in a cheap cloth-covered one that would get thrown out in a matter of years.
If I have a lot of books to store, replacing the plain but sturdy IKEA massive pine wood shelves I´ve had since I was a student (and kept adding to with every new flat I moved into) with MDF or plywood ones that would soon warp under the weight of the books would be plain dumb. So, the IKEA shelves will stay until I find an equally resistant shelving system that is not too expensive.
But, I will only exchange them for something that is as close as possible to my idea of what I need.
And I refuse to waste any more money on things that are just more provisory solutions.
Meanwhile, I keep reducing the things that I would not replace, had I to buy them today.
Oh, that might also mean I´m going to save on the new shelves, if I needed less of them. So, it´s the right way for me to declutter first, because only then will I be able to see how much storage I really need.
Julia
But what can that mean in a world where, as my Grandma used to put it, "there´s more make-doers than well-livers"? All too often we have to make do with what we have, and then, the makeshift, suboptimal solutions we chose become permanent because we never take the time to check whether they are still appropriate, or whether there would be a way to improve on them.
This permanence of the provisory does sometimes cause us to live in surroundings we would not chose if we had to make the choice for the first time.
Case in point- both DH and I had, long before we met, built our respective households, complete with cutlery, cookware, bed linens, furniture, and what else is needed for living. And, as we were both poor students when we started our own households, we both had a fair share of hand-me-downs and extremely cheap items that were sometimes barely doing what they were supposed to do, or were just ugly. At a time when we had no alternatives, these things had to suffice. And, being extra frugal, we kept them even though their inadequacies were glaringly obvious.
About two years ago, the plastic tablecloth we used on our dinner table, which was already bleached-out and dingy, got caught on one of the chairs and ended up with a big tear on the side.
The crazy part is that I was, for a moment, tempted to do a provisory repair on it with duct tape from the underside. On a tablecloth that had been cheap when I bought it, and which would even after the repair look ugly. When I made myself realize that, I took the thing off our table, threw it away and went shopping for a new tablecloth. As luck would have it, there was a sale on table linens at a nearby store, and I found several damask tablecloths in colors that matched our interior.
These damask tablecloths turned out to be the beginning of our journey towards an improved home.
When setting the table with them, I soon found myself choosing the better china or glassware, or taking out the stainless steel design candlesticks that were a wedding present from my colleagues. A little vase with flowers appeared, too, artificial ones, certainly, but still flowers, and very soon I got myself a matching set of cloth napkins, too.
The point here is that I did not have to pay a lot of money to achieve all of this. Some of the items were already there, just not being used because they were kept for some nebulous future occasion, and others were, when compared to the things they replaced, not even so much more expensive. What made the difference was that I did decide that for ourselves, we should have the best, or at least, the best we could afford. And that meant that the crystal goblets that had for a long time slumbered in our cupboard because "that´s something for special occasions only" see the light more often today, and that the mustard glasses I had collected as a student to use as water glasses have long ago gone to recycling.
After all, if I already own something, in terms of frugality, it´s free. By finally using the things I kept for a future occasion, I could improve my surroundings for free.
And, let´s face it, if the said nebulous future occasion hasn´t arisen in the ten or twenty years I have had those goblets, it´s very likely that it may never come. And what, then, are those goblets good for except collecting dust and taking up space?
So, I use them. That may mean they might break, but until then, I have a lot more enjoyment from using them than from having them inside my cupboard.
These damask tablecloths did start a kind of chain reaction, actually. I am, since their appearance in our household, continuously looking for other ways where I can, at a relatively minor cost, improve on our surroundings. The new blinds or the dustbins are just two examples.
But I am not obsessive about it.
There are still plenty of things to improve or exchange for which we have not found a replacement yet. And these we will live with until the right replacement comes along.
What I will try to avoid is settling for less than the optimum in the things I bring into our lives.
If what I want is a leather-padded couch it´s a waste of money to bring in a cheap cloth-covered one that would get thrown out in a matter of years.
If I have a lot of books to store, replacing the plain but sturdy IKEA massive pine wood shelves I´ve had since I was a student (and kept adding to with every new flat I moved into) with MDF or plywood ones that would soon warp under the weight of the books would be plain dumb. So, the IKEA shelves will stay until I find an equally resistant shelving system that is not too expensive.
But, I will only exchange them for something that is as close as possible to my idea of what I need.
And I refuse to waste any more money on things that are just more provisory solutions.
Meanwhile, I keep reducing the things that I would not replace, had I to buy them today.
Oh, that might also mean I´m going to save on the new shelves, if I needed less of them. So, it´s the right way for me to declutter first, because only then will I be able to see how much storage I really need.
Julia
Sunny days are here
After a period of somewhat unseasonable cold, we are right now having the most wonderful sunshine.
Which led me to the re-discovery of a forgotten space- namely, the balcony of our flat.
When I moved in there, I had started out furnishing it with flower pots and boxes hanging from the rails. I kept that up for several years, and then the pots and the boxes started to come apart (not every kind of plastic can stand several year´s exposure to summer heat and winter frost). Besides, I quit smoking, so the main reason for me to go out on the balcony was gone, too. Thus, I did declutter most of the old containers and put the other ones in the cellar instead of replanting them.
This year, I have decided to make the balcony usable again. We still had two garden chairs and a table out there, and I have gone and picked up a multi-tiered holder for spice pots, and gotten the remaining of the old pots from the cellar, too.
And I found something nifty for the rails. The old flower boxes I´d had were hung on metal holders. These were enamelled, and when the paint came off -which happened rather quickly- they started to rust and bleed orange-ey streaks down the wall. After decluttering them, I wasn´t too keen on buying replacements that would not hold out any longer (I don´t do paint jobs in our flat, apart walls).
What I discovered now at the gardening store is a style of hanging box that has the part that goes over the rail to hang the box fully integrated into the box itself, so, no more rusting metal there. Now we have a balcony framed in flowers and herbs again. Another plus is that the plants in the boxes also give at least some protection from curious eyes- I did pick plants that grow upwards instead of hanging downwards for that purpose.
We did, yesterday, take advantage of the mild weather and sat out on the balcony, by the light of a candle, enjoying the fresh air, the song of a blackbird that sat in one of the trees in our back yard, and the smell of fresh lavender and rosemary emanating from the spice pots. It could almost make you forget that we live in the middle of a rather big city.
Having to water these plants is a small price to pay for that. And the spice plants will be used in my kitchen, too. Organically grown, and in varieties that usually aren´t sold in the veggie store. So, our little paradise will even pay for its upkeep.
Julia
Which led me to the re-discovery of a forgotten space- namely, the balcony of our flat.
When I moved in there, I had started out furnishing it with flower pots and boxes hanging from the rails. I kept that up for several years, and then the pots and the boxes started to come apart (not every kind of plastic can stand several year´s exposure to summer heat and winter frost). Besides, I quit smoking, so the main reason for me to go out on the balcony was gone, too. Thus, I did declutter most of the old containers and put the other ones in the cellar instead of replanting them.
This year, I have decided to make the balcony usable again. We still had two garden chairs and a table out there, and I have gone and picked up a multi-tiered holder for spice pots, and gotten the remaining of the old pots from the cellar, too.
And I found something nifty for the rails. The old flower boxes I´d had were hung on metal holders. These were enamelled, and when the paint came off -which happened rather quickly- they started to rust and bleed orange-ey streaks down the wall. After decluttering them, I wasn´t too keen on buying replacements that would not hold out any longer (I don´t do paint jobs in our flat, apart walls).
What I discovered now at the gardening store is a style of hanging box that has the part that goes over the rail to hang the box fully integrated into the box itself, so, no more rusting metal there. Now we have a balcony framed in flowers and herbs again. Another plus is that the plants in the boxes also give at least some protection from curious eyes- I did pick plants that grow upwards instead of hanging downwards for that purpose.
We did, yesterday, take advantage of the mild weather and sat out on the balcony, by the light of a candle, enjoying the fresh air, the song of a blackbird that sat in one of the trees in our back yard, and the smell of fresh lavender and rosemary emanating from the spice pots. It could almost make you forget that we live in the middle of a rather big city.
Having to water these plants is a small price to pay for that. And the spice plants will be used in my kitchen, too. Organically grown, and in varieties that usually aren´t sold in the veggie store. So, our little paradise will even pay for its upkeep.
Julia
2011/05/10
Who lives in our flat?
When my DH and I moved in together we both brought a full household of stuff with us. Since it was DH who moved into my existing flat, he was the lucky one when it came to decluttering, because we did sift through his stuff before packing it up, and a lot of items didn´t make it to the now belonging to both of us flat in the first place.Still, he brought enough items to turn what used to be my home office and library into our clutter room. And the living room has grown several more shelves and cupboards, plus an extra desk, a table and several cocktail chairs, nothing to say of the big couch.
So, the roomy and airy flat I had furnished for myself isn´t quite as roomy any more. I, too, did inherit a big armchair from Grandma´s estate that I would not ever give up because not only does it hold a lot of memories, it´s also very comfortable, and I sit in it every day.
Since we are not about to move into a bigger flat, all these things are by now literally fencing us in.
Of course, the simple solution would be weeding them out ruthlessly.
But I have a big problem with throwing out things that have memories attached to them. Especially when they are memories of dear people who have departed this world.
I realized that once again when I dealt with those curtain rods over the weekend.
Even though their plastic end pieces had broken a long time ago, they still were the tangible proof that my aunt had cared about me enough to give me a housewarming present.
I had had the same dicussion with myself when it was time to deal with an ancient refrigerator and washing machine which my Granny had given me the money to buy as a student. Now, it´s been almost seventeen years since she died, so, these appliances had certainly done their job for an appliance lifetime. Still, I hesitated for a long time to replace them with modern appliances because throwing them away felt so much like throwing my Grandma´s love away.
The kicker was, in both instances, the feeling that those gifts by my dear departed relatives must absolutely be kept because there would not be any more gifts forthcoming from the givers and I felt obliged to keep them in honor of them.
With the big appliances, the decision made itself easier when they finally broke down completely. As I needed a refrigerator and a washing machine, and there was no room to keep the broken gadgets, having them hauled away when the new items were delivered was, while it made me sad, a natural process.
But what if the items are small? I have plenty of things that I keep just because they were once used by someone dear to me. Some of them, like Grandma´s armchair, or her needle box which I still use, see regular use. Some, like her ancient bread slicing machine or her coffee mill, I proudly display because they are, as well as still functioning, also decorative.
These have every right to be there, and they make me smile every time I see or use them.
But there is another kind of sentimental stuff that would, to any uninformed person, just be clutter.
Still, when it comes to throwing it away, I balk.
Which resulted in my weeding out my own clutter quite thoroughly, but keeping things that, had they been mine from the start, would have taken the exit road long ago, just because they had been the property of my grandparents or my aunt.
Now, I find myself having more clutter that is there because it used to belong to someone else than I have stuff of my own that has become clutter, because the latter by now gets thrown away quite quickly.
It´s almost as if my departed relatives had taken up physical residence in our flat- spooky!
Intellectually, I know that clutter is clutter no matter who first owned it.
I also know that my memories of my relatives, and the knowledge that we loved each other, do not depend on the physical existence of those things. The chipped cup was not my Grandma, and the curtain rods were not my Aunt Mary.
But I still have to remind myself of that. And I have to decide for myself which pieces I want in my flat, and which ones, even if they were loved by my relatives, simply are not fitting into the life I want to have.
I have given my relatives a space in my heart where I will always remember them, but I do not have to keep their stuff to prove it.
So, the litmus test will be if I would bring it into my flat if it weren´t already there. And the things that do not pass that test I may let go in peace.
Julia
So, the roomy and airy flat I had furnished for myself isn´t quite as roomy any more. I, too, did inherit a big armchair from Grandma´s estate that I would not ever give up because not only does it hold a lot of memories, it´s also very comfortable, and I sit in it every day.
Since we are not about to move into a bigger flat, all these things are by now literally fencing us in.
Of course, the simple solution would be weeding them out ruthlessly.
But I have a big problem with throwing out things that have memories attached to them. Especially when they are memories of dear people who have departed this world.
I realized that once again when I dealt with those curtain rods over the weekend.
Even though their plastic end pieces had broken a long time ago, they still were the tangible proof that my aunt had cared about me enough to give me a housewarming present.
I had had the same dicussion with myself when it was time to deal with an ancient refrigerator and washing machine which my Granny had given me the money to buy as a student. Now, it´s been almost seventeen years since she died, so, these appliances had certainly done their job for an appliance lifetime. Still, I hesitated for a long time to replace them with modern appliances because throwing them away felt so much like throwing my Grandma´s love away.
The kicker was, in both instances, the feeling that those gifts by my dear departed relatives must absolutely be kept because there would not be any more gifts forthcoming from the givers and I felt obliged to keep them in honor of them.
With the big appliances, the decision made itself easier when they finally broke down completely. As I needed a refrigerator and a washing machine, and there was no room to keep the broken gadgets, having them hauled away when the new items were delivered was, while it made me sad, a natural process.
But what if the items are small? I have plenty of things that I keep just because they were once used by someone dear to me. Some of them, like Grandma´s armchair, or her needle box which I still use, see regular use. Some, like her ancient bread slicing machine or her coffee mill, I proudly display because they are, as well as still functioning, also decorative.
These have every right to be there, and they make me smile every time I see or use them.
But there is another kind of sentimental stuff that would, to any uninformed person, just be clutter.
Still, when it comes to throwing it away, I balk.
Which resulted in my weeding out my own clutter quite thoroughly, but keeping things that, had they been mine from the start, would have taken the exit road long ago, just because they had been the property of my grandparents or my aunt.
Now, I find myself having more clutter that is there because it used to belong to someone else than I have stuff of my own that has become clutter, because the latter by now gets thrown away quite quickly.
It´s almost as if my departed relatives had taken up physical residence in our flat- spooky!
Intellectually, I know that clutter is clutter no matter who first owned it.
I also know that my memories of my relatives, and the knowledge that we loved each other, do not depend on the physical existence of those things. The chipped cup was not my Grandma, and the curtain rods were not my Aunt Mary.
But I still have to remind myself of that. And I have to decide for myself which pieces I want in my flat, and which ones, even if they were loved by my relatives, simply are not fitting into the life I want to have.
I have given my relatives a space in my heart where I will always remember them, but I do not have to keep their stuff to prove it.
So, the litmus test will be if I would bring it into my flat if it weren´t already there. And the things that do not pass that test I may let go in peace.
Julia
2011/05/09
There´s a bug in my kitchen...
...no, not of the insect kind. I´ve been bitten by the home improvement bug, and it´s been taking up residence in the kitchen. After the venetian blind operation, I have had the occasion to take a good hard look at the decor in my flat. Which led me to notice some more things that could be improved on, namely, two containers I have used for collecting waste materials for recycling (it´s obligatory to recycle where I live, and you have to separate your waste before disposing of it).
These had been in use for some fifteen years, and the plastic they were made of had started to desintegrate, making them appear stained and dirty. Besides, the hinges on them were broken, so the lids kept falling off.
This weekend, a local container store advertised a big sale in American-style enamelled metal wastebins, and I managed to secure me two fire-engine-red beauties which match my existing leftover non-recyclable waste bin exactly, coming from the same manufacturer. The old plastic bins have already gone to the waste disposal themselves, and my kitchen has another big eyesore less.
The funny thing was that after setting up the new bins (I had to raise a shelf on the wall above them because they are a bit higher than the old ones), I found myself going on decluttering my kitchen, making room in the cupboards for some cups and glasses that had until now lived on an open shelf and getting rid, finally, of a big porcelain cup. That had been a present from my Granny, but it had a jagged, chipped-off edge just in the place where you put your lips when drinking. As it was just one of three matching cups, I still have another two exactly like it to remind me of Granny, and I have realized I´ll never again use the broken one. So, to the trash it goes.
What also did get weeded out was the remains of a china set that my grandparents had used a lot. Most of the pieces had gotten chipped in their dishwasher, there are no replacements available any more, so, after realizing that I did not even have enough undamaged pieces left for two place settings, I tossed the damaged pieces. Since the biggest plates of the set had a beautiful flower motive painted on them, I kept one of these (that had miraculously survived undamaged) and, using a plate hanger I also found, I have hung this in the kitchen as a wall decoration where it makes me smile every day and reminds me of many meals I have eaten off these plates with Granny. And the other ones I let go. Not facing that stack of broken china every time I open that cupboard sure feels good.
It seems to be right that hanging on to damaged items drags your energy down. They are, after all, nothing but clutter if they will never be either repaired or used. Getting rid of them frees up space and energy.
And I sure have better uses for both.
Julia
These had been in use for some fifteen years, and the plastic they were made of had started to desintegrate, making them appear stained and dirty. Besides, the hinges on them were broken, so the lids kept falling off.
This weekend, a local container store advertised a big sale in American-style enamelled metal wastebins, and I managed to secure me two fire-engine-red beauties which match my existing leftover non-recyclable waste bin exactly, coming from the same manufacturer. The old plastic bins have already gone to the waste disposal themselves, and my kitchen has another big eyesore less.
The funny thing was that after setting up the new bins (I had to raise a shelf on the wall above them because they are a bit higher than the old ones), I found myself going on decluttering my kitchen, making room in the cupboards for some cups and glasses that had until now lived on an open shelf and getting rid, finally, of a big porcelain cup. That had been a present from my Granny, but it had a jagged, chipped-off edge just in the place where you put your lips when drinking. As it was just one of three matching cups, I still have another two exactly like it to remind me of Granny, and I have realized I´ll never again use the broken one. So, to the trash it goes.
What also did get weeded out was the remains of a china set that my grandparents had used a lot. Most of the pieces had gotten chipped in their dishwasher, there are no replacements available any more, so, after realizing that I did not even have enough undamaged pieces left for two place settings, I tossed the damaged pieces. Since the biggest plates of the set had a beautiful flower motive painted on them, I kept one of these (that had miraculously survived undamaged) and, using a plate hanger I also found, I have hung this in the kitchen as a wall decoration where it makes me smile every day and reminds me of many meals I have eaten off these plates with Granny. And the other ones I let go. Not facing that stack of broken china every time I open that cupboard sure feels good.
It seems to be right that hanging on to damaged items drags your energy down. They are, after all, nothing but clutter if they will never be either repaired or used. Getting rid of them frees up space and energy.
And I sure have better uses for both.
Julia
Anniversary encouragement
Once a year, there´s a gardeners´ market in a town some forty miles from where I live. They sell potted herbs, of varieties you usually don´t get in stores, and all kinds of garden knicknacks.
As the market is held on the central square of the town, which is quite ancient and does not have many parking spaces, the parking lots for that occasion are well outside the town, and you have to walk some distance from there.
Last year, I still had my crutches. It would not have been possible for me to walk that far without them.
This year, I walked all the way without crutches.
In just one year, I have regained enough mobility to do that. I may never run a marathon, but I can walk normally again, which, last year, I had given up hoping for.
And that should motivate me to keep up what I´ve done to get that far. Because even if I don´t notice from day to day, changes do add up, and I must be careful that they add up in the right direction.
Julia
As the market is held on the central square of the town, which is quite ancient and does not have many parking spaces, the parking lots for that occasion are well outside the town, and you have to walk some distance from there.
Last year, I still had my crutches. It would not have been possible for me to walk that far without them.
This year, I walked all the way without crutches.
In just one year, I have regained enough mobility to do that. I may never run a marathon, but I can walk normally again, which, last year, I had given up hoping for.
And that should motivate me to keep up what I´ve done to get that far. Because even if I don´t notice from day to day, changes do add up, and I must be careful that they add up in the right direction.
Julia
2011/05/06
Let there be light
Sometimes baby steps can make a big difference.
When we moved into our present flat, we re-purposed the curtains and curtain rods from the old flat. That had been in the highest level of a building, high up enough so no one could look into our windows from outside, and the curtains, consequently, were only drawn when it was very hot, to keep the heat out.
Our new place is facing several houses of equal height, so, some protection for our privacy is necessary. I am a bit obsessive about not wanting to be watched.
Which led to our keeping the curtains closed almost all of the time. I thought that didn´t matter so much because we are both full-time working out of the house. But still, the cave-like feeling of those closed curtains was not what I wanted for our place.
Yet- those curtains and curtain rods had been a housewarming present from a dear aunt who is no longer with us. Removing them somehow didn´t feel right.
Besides, we have many windows, and I feared that a complete exchange would be prohibitively expensive.
Thus, I have been sitting on the fence about this for quite a while.
Not so any more.
It started out innocently enough with a single yellow venetian-style blind I picked up to replace a door curtain that I had gotten as a cast-off from my parents a while ago,
The difference in that room was startling. And it made me see even more how worn the old curtains were by now.
So, I finally took the plunge and got myself a complete set of venetian blinds for all of our windows. They weren´t as pricey as what I had feared, either.
And I took off all of the old curtain rods and curtains. The curtains are already in the dustbin (they were, on closer inspection, not fit for donation any more) and the curtain rods are awaiting trash day, too.
Our flat is now a lot brighter and tidier-looking around the windows, and I have caught myself tidying and cleaning as if we were going to have visitors- which we don´t.
The extra light just brought out all the places where I hadn´t dusted lately, and which were now clamoring for attention.
So, attention is what I gave them. And a good scrubbing-down.
Of course, since I had to fit this in with my other duties, this has been nothing like the tear-everything-down kind of spring cleaning I witnessed as a child.
But the whole place looks better for it.
Actually, the example of how spring cleaning was done in Granny´s household has been an impediment to me when cleaning. It went like, if you want to clean the window panes you have to remove the curtains, too, wash and iron them and wipe the window frames, then re-hang the curtains, or else the windows aren´t cleaned properly. And you have to clean all of the windows on one day.
Which meant that just the cleaning of windows was a full-day occupation, at the very least, because the curtains were cotton and needed a lot of ironing.
So, more often than not, I procrastinated about it to the point where I was no longer able to avoid doing it. Suffice it to say it was a big surprise for me every time I found there were still those pieces of glass underneath the grime...:).
Now, I can just dust off the blinds, pull them up and wipe off the glass, and the frames, too, and then lower them back down.
And it takes me just minutes.
Nothing to say of how the brighter light that enters the rooms through the blinds even makes me have a better mood.
And I am already thinking about what the next microstep for improving our flat might be.
to be continued...
Julia
When we moved into our present flat, we re-purposed the curtains and curtain rods from the old flat. That had been in the highest level of a building, high up enough so no one could look into our windows from outside, and the curtains, consequently, were only drawn when it was very hot, to keep the heat out.
Our new place is facing several houses of equal height, so, some protection for our privacy is necessary. I am a bit obsessive about not wanting to be watched.
Which led to our keeping the curtains closed almost all of the time. I thought that didn´t matter so much because we are both full-time working out of the house. But still, the cave-like feeling of those closed curtains was not what I wanted for our place.
Yet- those curtains and curtain rods had been a housewarming present from a dear aunt who is no longer with us. Removing them somehow didn´t feel right.
Besides, we have many windows, and I feared that a complete exchange would be prohibitively expensive.
Thus, I have been sitting on the fence about this for quite a while.
Not so any more.
It started out innocently enough with a single yellow venetian-style blind I picked up to replace a door curtain that I had gotten as a cast-off from my parents a while ago,
The difference in that room was startling. And it made me see even more how worn the old curtains were by now.
So, I finally took the plunge and got myself a complete set of venetian blinds for all of our windows. They weren´t as pricey as what I had feared, either.
And I took off all of the old curtain rods and curtains. The curtains are already in the dustbin (they were, on closer inspection, not fit for donation any more) and the curtain rods are awaiting trash day, too.
Our flat is now a lot brighter and tidier-looking around the windows, and I have caught myself tidying and cleaning as if we were going to have visitors- which we don´t.
The extra light just brought out all the places where I hadn´t dusted lately, and which were now clamoring for attention.
So, attention is what I gave them. And a good scrubbing-down.
Of course, since I had to fit this in with my other duties, this has been nothing like the tear-everything-down kind of spring cleaning I witnessed as a child.
But the whole place looks better for it.
Actually, the example of how spring cleaning was done in Granny´s household has been an impediment to me when cleaning. It went like, if you want to clean the window panes you have to remove the curtains, too, wash and iron them and wipe the window frames, then re-hang the curtains, or else the windows aren´t cleaned properly. And you have to clean all of the windows on one day.
Which meant that just the cleaning of windows was a full-day occupation, at the very least, because the curtains were cotton and needed a lot of ironing.
So, more often than not, I procrastinated about it to the point where I was no longer able to avoid doing it. Suffice it to say it was a big surprise for me every time I found there were still those pieces of glass underneath the grime...:).
Now, I can just dust off the blinds, pull them up and wipe off the glass, and the frames, too, and then lower them back down.
And it takes me just minutes.
Nothing to say of how the brighter light that enters the rooms through the blinds even makes me have a better mood.
And I am already thinking about what the next microstep for improving our flat might be.
to be continued...
Julia
2011/05/05
Passing the crutch
..to DH, that is, who twisted his knee carrying a heavy box upstairs last week and is now limping badly.
I dug into that umbrella stand by the door I did mention once before and gave him a cane I had in there.
He wanted to know where that came from, and I had to tell him that I had bought it for myself when I had become unable to walk without one due to my weight gain.
Being able to give it to him to use, for the duration of his injury, feels good, because it means I do not use it any more. And it reminds me to be careful not to slide back to that place.
That is, actually, the thing that is difficult for me about the fat acceptance movement.
Namely, that I know from my own dire experience that for every body there is such a thing as being "too fat".
I define that as the point where the size of one´s body interferes with everyday functioning.
If I can´t walk without crutches any more because my muscles and bones refuse to carry my body weight, I am too fat for my body.
If I am unable to perform a proper personal hygiene because I can´t reach around myself because of my fatness any more, I am too fat for my body.
If I am unable to lift myself up from a bed any more, being pinned down by the mass of my own body, I am too fat for my body.
Now, as you can see from these examples, I am not talking about body shape. I am not talking about matching any optical ideal.
I am talking about the things that the body of a non-handicapped person ought to be able to do easily.
Where the breaking point is will be different for everybody. But it is a matter of quality of life to heed it and to stay below it.
Discriminating against anyone because of their body shape is wrong, of course.
And it is good to promote acceptance of the fact that we cannot all be conforming to some cookie-cutter ideal.
But I think it is as wrong not to encourage everybody to treat their one and unique body like the fantastic work of Nature´s (you may of course replace that by the deity of your choice) engineering it is.
Besides, some of the side effects of being very fat are cumulative, as in "you won´t notice when you are twenty but you´ll sure wish you had noticed by the time you are forty-five and the joints that used to just creak are beginning to croak from overuse".
It´s something I think about every time I see a picture of one of these proudly self-styled "death fatties".
For one, that´s bad latin. "Morbid" in medical parlance means "having to do with sickness" originally, and is derived not from "mors" for death but from "morbus" for disease or illness, so being morbidly obese means literally being fat to the point of becoming diseased. Doesn´t sound as heroic as the other version, does it?
And it is also, in my opinion, the wrong message to give to anyone who is in danger of gaining fat beyond the point where their bodies will be able to function normally.
I have been telling myself the same lies about my body for a long time, and only now that my physical abilities are returning, as in being able to ditch that crutch and walk without it, do I realize the extent of what I had been missing out on.
It had become quite natural, unfortunately, to stay at the bottom of a staircase or a hill and tell DH to bring down a picture of what I could have seen from up there.To not even attempt to go to some places because I was afraid I might not have the stamina to do it.
Today, I am able again to climb that hill. And I have to tell you, the vista from up there is a lot better than even the best of DH´s pictures.
And, I am determined to get my body back into a shape that will permit me to do all the things that everyday life demands of me.
Julia
I dug into that umbrella stand by the door I did mention once before and gave him a cane I had in there.
He wanted to know where that came from, and I had to tell him that I had bought it for myself when I had become unable to walk without one due to my weight gain.
Being able to give it to him to use, for the duration of his injury, feels good, because it means I do not use it any more. And it reminds me to be careful not to slide back to that place.
That is, actually, the thing that is difficult for me about the fat acceptance movement.
Namely, that I know from my own dire experience that for every body there is such a thing as being "too fat".
I define that as the point where the size of one´s body interferes with everyday functioning.
If I can´t walk without crutches any more because my muscles and bones refuse to carry my body weight, I am too fat for my body.
If I am unable to perform a proper personal hygiene because I can´t reach around myself because of my fatness any more, I am too fat for my body.
If I am unable to lift myself up from a bed any more, being pinned down by the mass of my own body, I am too fat for my body.
Now, as you can see from these examples, I am not talking about body shape. I am not talking about matching any optical ideal.
I am talking about the things that the body of a non-handicapped person ought to be able to do easily.
Where the breaking point is will be different for everybody. But it is a matter of quality of life to heed it and to stay below it.
Discriminating against anyone because of their body shape is wrong, of course.
And it is good to promote acceptance of the fact that we cannot all be conforming to some cookie-cutter ideal.
But I think it is as wrong not to encourage everybody to treat their one and unique body like the fantastic work of Nature´s (you may of course replace that by the deity of your choice) engineering it is.
Besides, some of the side effects of being very fat are cumulative, as in "you won´t notice when you are twenty but you´ll sure wish you had noticed by the time you are forty-five and the joints that used to just creak are beginning to croak from overuse".
It´s something I think about every time I see a picture of one of these proudly self-styled "death fatties".
For one, that´s bad latin. "Morbid" in medical parlance means "having to do with sickness" originally, and is derived not from "mors" for death but from "morbus" for disease or illness, so being morbidly obese means literally being fat to the point of becoming diseased. Doesn´t sound as heroic as the other version, does it?
And it is also, in my opinion, the wrong message to give to anyone who is in danger of gaining fat beyond the point where their bodies will be able to function normally.
I have been telling myself the same lies about my body for a long time, and only now that my physical abilities are returning, as in being able to ditch that crutch and walk without it, do I realize the extent of what I had been missing out on.
It had become quite natural, unfortunately, to stay at the bottom of a staircase or a hill and tell DH to bring down a picture of what I could have seen from up there.To not even attempt to go to some places because I was afraid I might not have the stamina to do it.
Today, I am able again to climb that hill. And I have to tell you, the vista from up there is a lot better than even the best of DH´s pictures.
And, I am determined to get my body back into a shape that will permit me to do all the things that everyday life demands of me.
Julia
2011/05/03
May- there be less of me...
At least that is what I hope for this month. Last month ended up as a complete standstill, weightloss-wise. But I still think my body is rebuilding, especially where skin is concerned.
That´s also where I disagree with Alan. Yes, getting rid of my extra baggage is something I can´t wait to finish. But, considering that the human body is in a constant state of renewal, with cells being replaced by new ones all the time, I think it is possible to take advantage of that fact. Namely, I do not want to have to go under the knife to have my skin re-tailored to my slimmer body. Just as you get stretch marks only when you gain faster than your skin will re-grow in the bigger size, it should be possible to avoid those hanging skin folds at least partly by losing only as fast as your skin will adapt to.
Oh, and if Alan should read this (I haven´t found out yet how to post a comment to him directly)- if an obese person loses a pound a week he will be 52 pounds lighter by the end of a year. Which is certainly better than not losing anything at all. Or gaining.There are many of us who do not have, either the willpower, or the metabolism, to stick to a plan as strict as what Alan advocates. But, that doesn´t mean that losing weight is hopeless for them. It just means it may take a while longer.
There´s a fine line between encouraging someone and discouraging him.
It´s one thing I found out about myself when trying to find an explanation why it had taken me so long to get rid of the weight I acquired seven years ago. The very thought of being a hundred pounds overweight just stopped me cold when thinking about how long I would take to get rid of them again.
Now, if I had started to lose in increments of as little as a pound a month back then, and kept that up, I would have gone below the point of morbid obesity almost two years ago.
I am still above that point, so, yes, I am kicking myself for not starting sooner. But every time I climb the three flights of stairs to our flat and do not need to pull myself up by the handrail one step at a time, I know that every pound I lose helps my health. Even if I might have lost two of them by following a very strict regime.
And there´s something else.
For a binge eater in recovery like myself, the very thought of never again being allowed to eat something is a surefire trigger.
So, in order for my weight loss to be sustainable, I have to find a way of losing that works with that peculiarity of mine.
Besides, it was my old eating habits that got me fat. Were I to revert to them after condensing myself, I would pile the pounds back on quickly.
Any plan that is so severe that you can´t wait to get off it again, bears in it the seeds of a big-time relapse.
So, I´d rather get below morbid obesity a bit later and stay below it for good, than celebrate an early victory only to lose the war in the end. After all, it´s been scientifically observed that repeated yo-yo dieting is more dangerous to someone´s health than just being overweight.
Julia
That´s also where I disagree with Alan. Yes, getting rid of my extra baggage is something I can´t wait to finish. But, considering that the human body is in a constant state of renewal, with cells being replaced by new ones all the time, I think it is possible to take advantage of that fact. Namely, I do not want to have to go under the knife to have my skin re-tailored to my slimmer body. Just as you get stretch marks only when you gain faster than your skin will re-grow in the bigger size, it should be possible to avoid those hanging skin folds at least partly by losing only as fast as your skin will adapt to.
Oh, and if Alan should read this (I haven´t found out yet how to post a comment to him directly)- if an obese person loses a pound a week he will be 52 pounds lighter by the end of a year. Which is certainly better than not losing anything at all. Or gaining.There are many of us who do not have, either the willpower, or the metabolism, to stick to a plan as strict as what Alan advocates. But, that doesn´t mean that losing weight is hopeless for them. It just means it may take a while longer.
There´s a fine line between encouraging someone and discouraging him.
It´s one thing I found out about myself when trying to find an explanation why it had taken me so long to get rid of the weight I acquired seven years ago. The very thought of being a hundred pounds overweight just stopped me cold when thinking about how long I would take to get rid of them again.
Now, if I had started to lose in increments of as little as a pound a month back then, and kept that up, I would have gone below the point of morbid obesity almost two years ago.
I am still above that point, so, yes, I am kicking myself for not starting sooner. But every time I climb the three flights of stairs to our flat and do not need to pull myself up by the handrail one step at a time, I know that every pound I lose helps my health. Even if I might have lost two of them by following a very strict regime.
And there´s something else.
For a binge eater in recovery like myself, the very thought of never again being allowed to eat something is a surefire trigger.
So, in order for my weight loss to be sustainable, I have to find a way of losing that works with that peculiarity of mine.
Besides, it was my old eating habits that got me fat. Were I to revert to them after condensing myself, I would pile the pounds back on quickly.
Any plan that is so severe that you can´t wait to get off it again, bears in it the seeds of a big-time relapse.
So, I´d rather get below morbid obesity a bit later and stay below it for good, than celebrate an early victory only to lose the war in the end. After all, it´s been scientifically observed that repeated yo-yo dieting is more dangerous to someone´s health than just being overweight.
Julia
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