Purging Habits

I know I am a pack rat and I have developed a very intensive system for dealing with it so I don’t get buried in clutter. I’ve tried to gather a list of the habits I try to foster.

I make regular trips to donate items. I have a garbage bag in the bottom of one of my closets that I fill up every month or two and then once it’s full I take it over, never to be seen again. It absolves a lot of guilt about getting rid of things, because it’s going to a good source.

I have another bag for books that I want to trade at my local used bookstore. They give you the option to donate any books they don’t take, and I always appreciate never taking anything back home with me. This allows me to keep my book habit in check and I don’t have any useless books lying around.

Once a month or so I troll freecycle and craigslist to see if anyone is wanting any items I may have.

If a friend or family member really likes something that I feel neutral about, I’ll offer it up and often it will go to a very good home. Recently I had a very expensive blown colored glass vase that I didn’t care for and I was using it as a chopstick holder inside one of my cupboards. I took it out, wiped it down, and offered it to a visiting friend whose style and colors it matched very well. It now has a prominent place in her living room and I can actually appreciate it for the first time.

I am very picky about many new things that come into the house. I want exactly what I want and I am willing to wait and/or pay more for what I want because I know I will use it. Especially with food. My husband is finally seeing the light on this one: that it doesn’t matter if it was inexpensive, if we throw away food because it spoils faster, tastes worse, or doesn’t have the properties necessary for cooking the dish, then it was wasted money.

That said, if I have impulse buys of non-perishable items, I put them through a testing phase where they sit in the packaging where I can see them. If I haven’t used them by the end of the week, back to the store they go because I obviously don’t need them. I confess that I take back a lot of things but much less than I used to, because I’ve been getting better about another trick:

Evaluating the cart. When I get done shopping at the grocery store or elsewhere, I go through everything one last time. Often I’ve picked up duplicate items, or something that seemed great but upon reflection I would never use. I can usually put back a number of items and that means less coming into the house.

Speaking of coming into the house, I try to let some things go for every similar thing that comes in. That way I don’t get overwhelmed with trying to find storage for all these things, especially when I may have traded up for some items and no longer need the older ones. If it’s something like a craft item, I try to make it a point to do a project with some of the old stuff before or while I am working with the new stuff.

Sometimes there’s just stuff everywhere. Little things have gotten out of hand, there’s piles on every flat surface, and I just can’t seem to find anything: that’s when I just walk around, sweep everything out of place into a box so that I get the immediate gratification of the room looking nicer, and then I sit down with the box, the trash can, and the donation bag and sort aggressively.

Usually when I have small piles of things that I want to keep, it is because they don’t have a home, so I’ll go through the trouble of making one. If it’s an item that already has a home, I’ll relocate the home closer to where the piles are so that it’s more intuitive to put away.

Also, I have days where I’m just ready to Get Rid of Shit. This is kind of like spring cleaning, except there is no cleaning, just a lot of dumping. Nothing receives mercy as  I storm around the house addressing emotionally charged items and trash alike. If it can’t pass a few simple questions, then it gets sold or donated. Questions like “Am I using it? Do I plan to use it soon? Will it be better to have this space and buy a new one in three years when I will use it? Do I even like it? Can I do with something smaller? Why do I even have this anyway? Will I really regret not having this? What else could I be doing with this drawer/closet/room?”

I’m sure it sounds cheesy, but keeping the life I want to live in mind as I evaluate my belongings really helps. My current goals are that I want to raise as much food for my family as is practical in my apartment, I want to learn how to cook everything from scratch, and I am planning for a new puppy within a year and a baby within three.

Keeping these things in mind as I look at my available space makes some decisions easy. “Of course I’ll get rid of that old lawnmower (no lawn) so that I can have space for rabbit cages and a chest freezer.” Or perhaps: “We’ll sell the convection oven my dad bought us because there just isn’t room for it in the new kitchen if I want to be able to make bread.”

Other decisions are harder, but still are easy in comparison. “I have to reduce my room full of of art supplies, fiber and fabric into one wall unit and one bin in the garage so that I can have room for a puppy and then eventually a baby.”

When I’m moving somewhere new, I envision what I want the space to look like, and then I don’t let it stray too far from that ideal. If there’s a bunch of stuff left over that categorically fits into the space but doesn’t practically fit into the space, that’s when I start getting very picky about what I keep and what I don’t.

You know what’s going to be purged when I move? Pie plates. I keep finding the damn things tucked away in the kitchen. I do like pies, but dangit, more than four at a time is just silly! I’m only keeping my pyrex ones, and even then, I’m only keeping the pyrex ones that are deep and have handles.

I like moving because having things in boxes outside of their normal place really helps you evaluate. You pull that bundt cake mold out of the box and instead of thinking that it’s a handy thing to have around, you exclaim to yourself, “I haven’t ever made bundt cake in my life!” and then you can really decide if you’re going to make some any time in the near future. What was that? You’re not? Not ever? Out it goes!

I hope some of this helps!

Moving

Except for the kitchen and our computers, I have packed all the items that logically go together. Because this old house has so much storage, I decided early to empty out every nook and cranny I could find. This has led to many interesting piles around the house that have been picked over and resemble nothing more than miniature trash heaps, though I assure you the contents are (mostly) not trash.

I have stalled on packing because these piles are so difficult to categorize. Do I waste time by sorting them all into relevant boxes? I think that would be counterproductive, since I’ve decided to purge once we move. Nothing is particularly heavy or breakable, and I’m considering boxing each pile and labeling it by location. As in basement, north wall. Or laundry room, east wall.

We have so much stuff. My husband and I each have a healthy dose of “I may need this some day” and since we inherited so many things after our wedding and the move and never really got this house in order, there are so many things that are unnecessary or triplicate or just unwanted.

I’ve been talking for months about how I wanted to reduce our belongings by about a quarter so that we could have some breathing room. My husband has been resistant to this. He has been saying, “but why so much? What could there possibly be to get rid of?” He’s come around, though. The other night in bed, I said it again, and he replied “why just a quarter? There’s so much that we don’t need!”

I love paradigm shifts.

Our new apartment isn’t large and I refuse to live a crowded, cluttered life there. It is entirely possible that we will end up having a baby during our tenancy, and I think there is plenty of room–if we can get our act together. I’ve already arranged for a smaller kitchen table and chairs to fit in the dining space, and I plan on getting nice wooden folding chairs to fill out the rest of the seating.

We’re getting rid of the massive and uncomfortable futon, which will leave a blocky little love seat and our “stolen” chair as the regular seating in the living room. Eventually I want to trade the love seat for a tiny couch that resembles the stolen chair. I know they exist and it’s just a matter of finding one. I’m also going to make floor cushions for extra seating.

Our primary use for the garage will be warming the cars in winter. Heated garage in Alaska? How could we not! It does happen to be a little longer than we will need for our vehicle, so the back part will be dedicated to storage of off-season items, tools, and the few outdoor things we will be keeping. I also plan on housing the rabbits out there and growing seedlings in spring. Again, it’s a tight space that will not be able to handle overcrowding.

But before that, I must Must MUST finish packing.

Serendipity

I quit my job and we are moving out to the Matanuska-Susitna Valley on November 1st. Whee! What changes! I am so stoked about what’s ahead!

It’s been a long line of fortuitous happenings. First we found out that our landlord wanted to sell the house. It will be bulldozed, so we know we couldn’t stay. We started to look for places, even though we didn’t have a move out date. It’s hard to find places here in Anchorage that will accept more than two pets, and getting rid of any of ours was non-negotiable. We had not planned on moving out to the Valley for another few years, but we both hate this city and wanted to be out there that it seemed the perfect opportunity to just jump.

The atmosphere at my job just kept going downhill and my husband commented that every day I would come home and immediately say that I was dreading going back the next day. My six month date for being able to change departments was on the 30th of September. I informed my supervisor that I was going to be waiting for a position to open up in Wasilla so that I didn’t have to commute. She told me that management would likely keep me in this position until they hired and trained someone, and that the last person had to wait months before they were allowed to move, even though they were hired for the other position. In light of this, I put in my notice. I was not going to play any more games with that department. I can hire on with them again because I left in good graces, but it doesn’t look like anything will open up for a while.

In one lump sum, I paid off my credit card and a small loan that I had been making small payments on. That takes a huge weight off of my shoulders. I don’t have to start paying on my student loans until December. We also got our Permanent Dividend Funds, so even though I’m out of a job, we’re going to be okay for a month or two so I can be off to pack, move, unpack, and settle in to our new place.

We found a pretty, new, well-managed, inexpensive apartment with no fireplace, a laundry room, a huge kitchen, and a heated garage that is two blocks from the post office, five minutes away from my in-laws, and it’s fairly close to our very good friends, whom my husband will be commuting with. It will be good to live in a healthy place again, that I can take pride in. I have been so ashamed of the condition of this place that I don’t let anyone over. I miss having people come. I have been ruthlessly purging junk. There is only so much room in the new place, and I refuse to have it cluttered and junky.

It just so happened that my husband had a week off of work my first week out of a job, so we have had a great time staying at home and playing together. We like to celebrate, and that’s what we have done all week. Tomorrow is the first day of real work, to pack and clean, and my am I looking forward to it.

The importance of walking nicely on a leash

This is one of those skills that Penny and I bomb out on, and I have been reluctant to address it, even though I’ve taught a dozen dogs to walk nicely on leash before. I don’t know what my hesitation has been caused by. I think it stems from the fact that her on-leash behavior has been so variable. She’s generally respectful of the leash, in that she never tries to buck it, even if she’s aroused or frightened. Sometimes she walks at a loose leash, often she is taut behind or before me, depending on her state of mind. Sometimes when agitated she dithers, catching herself and me up even a limited amount of slack.

I don’t really care for retractable leashes, but walks with her on a static lead were so frustrating that I stopped taking her for walks. I finally broke down and got a retractable leash about a month ago and it has been the gateway to many good walks since. While it offers her more leeway to decide how close she wants to get to a threat–which keeps her from being so fearful–it also gives her a sensation of pull, and if she changes direction quickly, there can be a snap or sudden extra line that she gets caught up in when trying to get away from something she finds intimidating. It’s a crutch that allows us to go for walks, and no more. Even if she had no fear problems, the problem with retractable leashes is that there is almost always a sensation of ‘pull’ for the dog so unless you’re working with it locked, it is difficult to train a better way of walking when using one.

I am being bombarded by clues from the universe about just how important loose leash walking really is. Is it the only thing on the Introduction to Obedience class curriculum that she does not know. Each training book I read lists it as a skill that helps keep dogs calm on a walk. Even the two new books I got detail in great length the reasons why it is an important skill and one even argues that it is the most important skill for founding a good relationship with your dog.

The last point sounds a little silly. Really, we’ve been getting along just fine staying at home. Other skills like not biting or not peeing in the house seem to be pretty important. However when I compare the evidence presented with what I know about dogs, I am quite convinced that I cannot afford to wait any longer, and that me and my dog will benefit greatly from the awareness and connection that loose leash walking implies.

In fact, I was so shaken by the discussion of awareness and quality of experience, that I had to go downstairs, rouse my husband off the computer, and snuggle in his lap for a half hour in order to reconnect with him.

The whole thing just reminds me that no matter how content we may be, there is always room for improvement.

Better with Friends

Thursday evening I met up with Josh and Noot at the lake. It was very drizzly, and the trail was extremely muddy in a few parts. It was funny to see Noot–a big husky–fastidiously avoid getting his feet more than a little damp, and Penny (who was off-leash) gaily wade through the largest of mud-puddles with nary a second thought. I have to say, for being very badly bred, she’s got this whole earthdog rodent killing terrier thing down pat. Thankfully she doesn’t excavate our yard, but I hear she would dig up the vole tunnels without a second thought.

I only know Noot as this big love sponge, and it was strange to see him so keyed up. He was straining at the end of his leash, obviously enjoying pulling his six-foot human behind him. Josh had to be careful not to have tension on the leash when other dogs came at us, because Noot would react pretty aggressively if he was tugging. I’ve never really seen leash-aggression at work before. It was pretty interesting. And scary.

I have noticed that Penny is more confident off-leash, where she has room to choose her own distance from oncoming dogs. She was morbidly curious about every dog we met, skulking out of reach of the more aggressive ones and then sneaking up behind them for sniffs. This was more pronounced with people, as usual, but even though she was nervous, she was still curious and willing to check them out.

I have been reinforcing the come command with Penny with some extra-smelly treats at appropriate opportunities. I bungled it once,though, when a large pack of dogs came charging around the corner when I was pulling the treat bag out of my pocket. I wasn’t about to dole out treats, so it took some doing for Penny and I to get moving and un-swarmed by the eager (yet polite) mob and get past their three owners, who encouraged them onward.

It was a very fun walk. We had another husky (and by proxy, her owner, who was a ways back) join up with us and walk in our little pack for the last part of the loop. This dog was pretty happy about walking next to Noot as if in harness, trotting around with Penny as she went off to sniff things, casually and conversationally heeling with one of us, or just being off exploring at whatever caught her fancy. It was neat to see how laid-back  and pack happy this dog was.

Fortunately Penny had shed most of the mud she had picked up by the time we got back to the car, but there were still muddy paw prints everywhere. I just took time to admire what they signified and went home happy.

Another park

I was dead tired when I got home tonight. I’ve been coughing all day, and I really wonder if I am coming down with something. I didn’t do anything with Penny last night, and she really wanted to go out again. I almost didn’t, but I am so glad that we did!

This time we went to the University Lake Park, and it was worlds better than the scrubby, marshy place I went on Monday. Beautiful trails about a mile long around a lake. And teeming with dogs, which is what I wanted. Penny needs that exposure to other dogs. She did very well. She only bothered a few other dogs, only a few made her nervous, she was generally curious about people, she listened really well, she stuck fairly close to me and checked in often, and was really well-behaved. I was so happy.

The setup is rather nice, with about a half-mile of trail through woods next to the lake and then it opens up to a field for a time before winding back through around the lake. Bell-ringing was going on at a nearby church. I hadn’t heard such a thing since we lived across from the church in England. I had forgotten how much I had missed it. I hope we catch more of it. There were also copious signs of beavers, including a hilarious tree that was 7/8 of the way gnawed through with all the sawdust scattered around.

And wow was it ever pretty. Near the end of the walk, I came around a bend and just stood and admired the view. The mountains behind the forest were reflected in the lake, and all of it was bounded by a huge, complete rainbow.

I’m going back again tomorrow with my friend and one of his dogs. I’m looking forward to it.

On being a better dog owner

I’ve been motivated to be a better dog owner lately. Penny has been mostly a stay at home, stay inside dog in the year since we got her. She loves to go on car rides, but she’s nervous and keyed up whenever she sees other people or dogs, so we have mostly stayed in. The decision was not just laziness, but also a strategy that involved her becoming more confident and less worried and more trusting with us.

I am happy to say it has done her wonders. No longer does she slink about when we’re in the stores, trying to hide behind my legs and peeing submissively at the mere sight of other people. She doesn’t cower in fear from the tiniest puppy. She’s now overeager at the end of her leash, digging hard in order to meet other dogs. She will tiptoe up to people in order to sniff their feet. She has begun to mark on walks, where previously she would hold everything until she got back to her comfortable spaces. I laughed myself silly today when she found a pile of poo, spent some time sniffing it over, and then peed all over it before prancing off. It’s a sign of confidence I thought I’d never see.

I’ve been taking her on daily walks around the neighborhood. This is scary for me, because we do live in a rough area, but we’re in a small pocket of families with children, so it’s pretty quiet. Well, reasonably. I get to say hi to the policemen impounding a car, walk around the block where Penny says hi to the drug dealers hanging out on their front porch, and then we both jog past the screaming hordes of children who want to pet my sweet, harmless, not-rottie-or-pit-or-chihuahua. And everywhere we go, it’s “What kind of dog is that?” Everyone loves her and thinks she’s the bees knees. And she’s learning to like it.

I’m preparing her for her first obedience class, well, at least the first since she was very young. We work pretty well together, and she knows most of the curriculum already, but I’m brushing up on the rest so that she’s not trying to learn something new in an environment that will push all her buttons. Mostly I need to get her around the confusion of other dogs and people in a (somewhat) controlled setting. The place that teaches the classes calls it proofing, and I think it’s going to be a very good thing for her.

My motivation is to get her prepped so that we can start beginning agility together. She’s in good shape for a 12 year old dog, she loves to train with me, and I’ve been interested for some time. I’ve finally achieved a physical health level that will allow me to be active again, and I am eager to be moving after so much time at rest.

We went to our first off-leash area today, and it was nerve-wracking to me. It was mostly foot trails through forest and field. I have just heard so many horror stories of dogs just taking off into the underbrush with people calling for hours. I made sure to bring some extra-smelly treats with us, and doled them out liberally whenever she came when I called.

I shouldn’t have worried so much. She was wonderful. She had a blast. She trotted. She ran. She sniffed everything. She came when I called every time, without fail. She got to tree a squirrel. There was even tons of sunshine, and an actual rainbow, huge and bold. I… sniff… I was so proud.

I can’t wait to explore more with her.

Clam Diggers really are perfect for clamming…

I went clamming for the first time a few weeks ago. It was dirty and strenuous work, but it was a hell of a lot of fun! Honestly, it was six hours barefoot on a beach on a day I could have spent indoors at a desk editing spreadsheets. Complete win on my part.

Patrick had gone clamming as a kid with his family, but it had been perhaps 10 or 12 years since he last went. I was up for it, and we happened to stumble upon the best tide of the season, which was a Wednesday that we could both take off.

The Kenai peninsula is several hours away by car, and there’s always construction in summer, but we were quite determined that we could leave after work on Tuesday, get out to the campsite late that evening (thank goodness for that famed Alaskan summer sun, which provided good light at 1 a.m.) get up that morning, pack the campsite, drive over and get down to the beach, clam for several hours of the best tide, clean up, pack up, drive home, unpack the car, clean the clams, and go to bed at a reasonable hour so we could go to work on Thursday morning.

Let’s just say we got back into town exactly 24 hours after we had left it, and were in bed by 11:30 that night.

I declined to take my camera (which was having a battery problem) so I do not have any pictures of the wonderful and tiny old village of Ninilchik, where we went, but I plan to get some the next time we go out there.

We only caught about a quarter of our allowable limit, but it was a blessing. We would have been up until 3 a.m. if we had come home with 120 clams and had to clean them all. We’re the wiser for our trip, and several meals richer. We’ll be well prepared for the next time we go out, and we’ll probably not be as crazy as this time, taking only one day in the middle of the work week to do it.

Independence Day

I was in the car with my mother about a month ago, and I confided in her that this last year was extremely hard on me. I so rarely confide this sort of broad-spectrum weakness to my mother, it’s usually the moment to moment irritations and frustrations that she and I can find common ground with. She’s not particularly supportive if there’s not a definable problem that can be solved and I learned a long time ago that I’ll not find what I seek from her. Yet every now and then I forget and mention something and then wait in horrible, fascinating anticipation for her reaction.

She asked me if it was my new marriage;  I answered truthfully and thankfully that it was not.

She asked me if it was my new job; I said no, not anymore. It’s been excellent recently, now that all my complaints have been addressed and I feel more competent.

I told her some of the things that had been bothering me, and then I added that things were not currently bad, it was just that I was so tired and overwhelmed by all the things that had happened and I hadn’t quite had enough time to feel like things had settled down to normal.

She said a few things that hurt my feelings, but I knew she meant well. And then I went into my house and went to sleep.

~~~

It’s been a month since, and I’ve spent the majority of it ensuring that every possible moment of free time has been the epitome of R&R. I have been on “vacation” from life. I “lost” my cell-phone, I haven’t cooked unless I wanted to for fun, I haven’t seen any of my friends, I gave up on planting the rest of my garden, I haven’t cleaned or done laundry unless it was a desperation measure, and I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time simply caring for myself.

I woke up a day or two ago and realized I felt a hell of a lot better. Not perfect, not bursting with energy and motivation–just better. And wow, is my house ever messy!!!

With a three-day weekend ahead of me, I plan on inserting some structure into my life a little bit at a time, and perhaps washing a dish or two. My wonderful husband is on board for this endeavor, and we’ll be, as always, happy as clams staying home and tootling around the house.

My half-birthday is on the Fourth. My family used to get me cakes on the fourth to celebrate my half-birthday, and even though the custom has gone by the wayside, I still have a private little celebration for myself in my head. At any rate, like new years, this time has always been a good time to evaluate how the last six months have been, and how I want the next six months to be.

We’ll see, we’ll see.

Killing yarn

In my schedule of planned events, this was supposed to be spring break, and I was going to grit my teeth and jump into dyeing wool and yarn. Instead, there has been job hunting and me being in the beginning stages of a cold. I decided I was not about to let this derail my ambitions, and I set aside today for dyeing.

Patrick has been teasing me when I say things like:  “I’m setting aside tomorrow to dye.” “Today I’m going to be dyeing all day.” “Before bed, I might do some more dyeing, because I’m not quite finished yet.” So I told him I’d call it “killing” so that he could stop being so sad.

He wasn’t convinced that was any better.

In any event, I “killed” 1 pound of falklands and 2 skeins of sock yarn. I had a good time, and even though I blundered through everything, I have some gorgeous products to show for it.

The only casualty was my initial skein in the crock pot, some yarn I got in a swap that I was never going to be knitting with that was really oddly colored. When I got it wet before dyeing, the color bled like mad, and it STANK! Like, skunky stank. It’s dry now, and still doesn’t smell any better. I’m going to pitch it, because I just don’t think there’s any saving it.

I did two skeins in the crock pot, but wanted to try the handpainting method too, and did the rest in the microwave.

I was a bit of a mess initially. My printer is still unhooked, and I don’t have any good books, so I kept running downstairs to check proceedures. For every stage, I would do this, so I got quite a bit of exercise. I finally settled down and decided that if it turned out to be a mess, it turned out to be a mess, and I would be just fine.

My first job was to make dyestock solutions of the powders I have. The literature had me pretty scared of the dye itself, but I was less concerned once the potential for inhalation went away. I scored a bunch of free 16oz bottles from a local business, and I put them to great effect. I also found a good chart for color mixing in a book, and totally ignored it (but bookmarked it for future endeavors).

The handpainting was interesting. First I ended up with way too much dye. Then I had way too little. Can you sense the Goldilocks moment? I ended up figuring out what the deal was: the dye was exhausting right away, and once I figured that it wasn’t a liquid/quanitity thing, but rather a visual coverage thing, I had a much better time of it. My last two batches were just right.

I belong to the school of thought that you just have to jump in and do a thing in order to know what questions have to be asked. I’m also chickenshit, and I love to read up, so things tend to get postponed until I feel I’ve amassed enough information on my endeavor to forge ahead with some confidence. In the end, I jumped, and I now have plenty of questions that are actually useful rather than hypothetical.

I’m still struggling with how wet to leave the fibers when I lay them out. Too dry, and they don’t take up the dye, too wet and it’s just a mess.

I think I should be using more acid for the Jaquard dyes. My red in particular was not very colorfast. No, strike that. It worked fine, it just ran a lot, the only color to do so.

I definitely need to get the rest of the base blending colors. There is so much I want to do, but I couldn’t achieve the colors with my current red/yellow/blue set. I also need to think of an alternate way to work with the gaywool dyes. Since they come mixed with acid, there’s nothing to worry about there, but I just have a feeling they are going to be useful in different ways than the Jacquard dyes.

Mostly I am just mulling things over. When I can find some batteries for the camera, I’ll take pictures and post the fruits of my labor.