You Can Do It

Make a detailed outlined to-do list in the order of cluttered rooms and closets I need to tackle and what to do with the items I'm going to discard. Then, go shopping, work a crossword, crochet, go geo-caching.  Hmmm. Maybe that is another disorder. 

Alright True Confessions Time ~ I'm a Level 2.. I know that cashemere sweater, shoe,pair of pants is in a pile SOMEWHERE...
 
You all knwo that scene in "Breakfast At Tiffany's" where Holly Go-Lightly asks Paul to help her find her black shoe Black alligator shoe & he looks & looks than after he gives up about 1 minute later she grabs her shoe from the Fruit basket?.. Yeah ~ that's me My Ex could look for a shoe, sweater, earring for 20 minutes & 30 seconds after he gave up I would be able to find it in the couch cushions or under the chairs, the pile at the bottom of the stairs, or candy dish..... 
 
My theory is everyone organizes differently I happen to be able to deal better with chaos rather than order... Well at least that's MY story & I'm Stick'n to it...  

I'm an OCD redneck...I even dry out the kitchen sink when done with the dish's. But I do have a drawer that when opened...is hell on earth for me. We each have our own hell...don't we? Sometimes I open the drawer just to look into the Abyss...

It's all true. people leave their cars outside the garage because there is no room inside....

Nature abhors a vacuum, and hoarding is a response to having too much empty space. Ya wanna nip the hoarding business in the bud, then go stick yourself and your life into a compact container - no extra space. May I recommend a sailboat? Having two drawers and one hanging locker for absolutely everything that you profess to need in life is extremely clarifying.

Another thought: hoarding is somewhat of a death-denying cargo cult. To wit, we come into life with nothing, and we leave with nothing, but if you have a whole bunch of scheit then there's NO WAY you can die! Because you don't have "nothing". I'm sure that only made sense in my head.

I'm in a bit of a stupor after laboring with a 5-pound hammer all day, and then playing at swords with other people (who had swords, too). Damn knackered, I am. Good thing I hoard pillows.

Clutter is inevitable. I live in a tiny apartment, so just bringing in the mail everyday, or buying three heads of lettuce  makes me look like a hoarder.

People hoard things to help them feel as if they are in control of their future.  They buy things that they think they will use. Everyone wants to be ready in an emergancy.  Remeber your scout troop motto, "Always be prepared."  But things get out of hand when we start buying things to fill out the emptyness in our hearts.    Things can't cure sadness or replace a lost loved one.

I am an Obsessive/Compulsive Redneck ... who was brought up by Depression Kid, who was part of a Family with thirty-one kids putting their feet under the table three times a day, with two harried parents and three Uncles riding herd on the Tribe ... As a result, waste is anathema to me, and I throw nothing away ... One never knows when he might need that odd '37 Packard Hub Cap ... If someone came needing only one Packard Hub Cap, and the odd one didn't exist ... it would require ruining one of the other three full Sets of Four, to satisfy that need ... That just, isn't done ... BUT, taking inventory in the Shop is a breeze because there is a place for everything and everything is in its place ... and the place is kept so clean that it is difficult to imagine that any work has ever gone on there ... The cleanliness of the place not only makes it more comfortable and closer to being sanitary (as much as a Garage can be) and O.S.H.A. Compliant, the result of which is that Property & Casualty Insurance and Garagemans' Liability are available at greatly reduced Rates ... tickled even Lower because we have never in over fifty years had a Claim ... So, one has to ask ... Is it Hoarding(or is it Memorex?) just kidding ... or is it wise management of Resources ???  However, I DO admit that ... a lot of the pieces I have and hold are here simply because they are moments of History ... of times when Greatness and Human Endeavor were seamlessly interchangable ... How does one just, let   go ... of something like that ??? Especially today ... when we so badly need to rekindle that fire of Greatness in this country ... and put us back where we were, when we WERE indomitable .......

 
OHIO: Only Handle It Once.

I love old stuff, and keep a lot of it. But when we moved cross country last year, I started "sloughing."

Started with the obvious garbage... stuff that came into the house uninvited: florist vases, gifts from lovely friends with, well, not-my-taste, etc. Strange that when I got rid of that, I could see the stuff that I liked when I acquired it... but now it's kind of... done. The stuff in the back of the closet that hasn't seen the light of day since it was placed there 10 years ago. Those two layers were pretty easy to scrape off.

Then it got more challenging. I started asking whether I needed to pay 50 cents a pound (the cost of moving it) to keep stuff. There were sacrifices, yes. I gave away/sold a small library of books that I determined I would never read again. While I love my books, it does seem a shame to hold them hostage where they will never be opened again... so, out they went. Not all, don't worry. The first copies of Lord of the Rings (with the colorful, cartoon-y covers) still hold a place of honor in my home. But the Grishams and Kings are gone, as are the Time/Life series.

At this point it became anti-hoarding! I started looking around at what I could get rid of... did I really need 5 sets of dishes? 3 sets of flatware? I kept Grama's dishes...

It's been 10 months since the move and I can honestly say I haven't missed anything.

Then I went to visit my Dad, living in the same house for the last 40 years... and accompanied him into the basement workshop... where he had woodworking tools of his father's, beautiful handmade things with purposes that had become vague over the years. There may come a day when decisions must be made about whether to keep them to let them go.

I think I'll find a place in MY basement workshop...

Like everything else, the human rationalization process would have me thinking that my stuff falls under the category of collectibles and everyone else's "junk". Feng Shui has taught me to at least make an attempt at keeping it clean and simple and I often move things around and give things away to achieve a constant state of semi-freshness, We all tend to find our best time period in clothing and other areas and want to live there mentally and fashionably but dressing like Magnum P.I. looks dated (as cool as he was) and gets me laughs from my kids so I try to be retro hip in a J. Peterman sort of way, one foot in my (haha) "perfectly recreated" past and another in the cool blue future. 

A reasonable amount of clutter has slowly been permitted to accumulate in my house.
When I was younger, I was obsessed about having everything in my life shipshape and Bristol fashion. I was Little Miss Orderly. All my spices were in alphabetical order. Papers were in files that had sub files. Everything I owned had to be in its place or my feathers felt uncomfortably ruffled. I could not even sleep until all was perfect.
Then I added a spouse who saves everything (you never know when we might NEED this) and whose career moved me 12 times in 20 years; three sons (described once by my husband's Commanding Officer as ‘human hurricanes') with all their activities and materials - from Boy Scouts and sports, to cars and clothes; a cat; several hobbies that generate a lot of detritus; and a goodly part of my in-law's possessions (particularly after their deaths) to my world.
I felt faced with a daunting choice - continue my compulsive neatness, thereby driving either my family or myself crazy, or relax and stop insisting that everything around me be perfectly arranged.
I chose the latter. It has not been easy. My preoccupation with tidiness once had me tied in knots, but I've pretty much learned that simply living and enjoying life is much more important than controlling every aspect of my environment. Allowing myself to be less strict, I don't put nearly as much pressure on myself as I use to and I find I'm a lot more calm.
My tendency to be a perfectionist still exists, but now I focus it on specific areas of my life, such as my hobbies, not on everything or anyone. I'm much happier.
I would now describe my home as being clean enough to be healthy, but messy enough to be comfortable. To this day, though, I do still have occasional impulsive bouts of orderliness; complete with strong urges to arrange items just so - a desire to see things balanced and symmetrical - and cleaning frenzies. My family smiles, knowing that they only need to wait a day or two and it will all be over. They are much happier, too

Tommy  Typical:    I  watched  a  "Classic  Johnny  Carson"  rerun   the  other  evening,   as usual he  looked  very  nice  as  he  did   the  rehearsed gags  with  his sidekick.    Then  I  noticed  what  was wrong  with  this  picture......his  suit's  lapels,  circa  1975,  were   about  8"  wide.    Somehow  I  have  the  sinking  feeling   that  somewhere  in  what  was  supposed  to  be  an  extra  bedroom  but  which  immediately turned  into  an  "indoor garage"   I am  certain  that  I  saved  the  identical  suit,   except  mine  is  a  size  44  Long.....lol     "Packrat  Syndrome."     "Maybe  some  day  this  will  come  back  in style."    -or-   "Maybe  someday  I'll  once  again need  these  old  favorite  jeans,  when  I  still  had  a  33"  waist...."    Sometimes  I  crack  myself  up.    And  RoadYacht  is   correct...   "Build  an  extra  garage,  and  like  magic  another  person's  basket  case  'classic'  car  has  found  a  new  home....."    We  all  have  our  own  addictions.   I  have  figured  out  how  to  develop  self - confidence  at  work   and  with  my  daughter,   but  unfortunately  the  skills  of  one  thing  do  not  transpose  themselves  over  into  another  area.   That's  why  every  dentist  I've  ever  had  secretly  is  a  failed  investor  in  a  planned  restaurant  that  soon  went  belly  up.   Their  "friends"  get  them  cornered  at  the  golf  club,  and  after  the  2nd  Martini  he  or  she  is  convinced  that  because  they  are  great  at  root  canal  work  they  therefore  know  how  to prepare,  serve,  and  plan  events involving  customers  and  dining  out.   Or  maybe  the  narcissistic  ones  secretly  want  to  envision  seeing  their  name  on  the  sign,  surrounded  by  chasing  lights,  while  armies  of  chic  couples  compete  outside  for  a  place  in  line.     Excellence  at  anything  is  admirable  at  some  level,   and  the  Madam  Chef   or  Author  of  children's  books  in  every  bit  as  smart  as  I  am........WAIT,  WAIT,  make  that  SMARTER.  

Kindlee:   Politely  tell  that  lucky  man  to  hang  onto  you  for  dear  life,    he  needs  you  every  bit  as  much  as  you  need  him.......WAIT,  WAIT.....He  needs  you  MORE.

RY ~ not always ~ my car really did not fit into the garage at our place because they were too big. Not because of all the crap in there.... The garage was built in the late 40's on a very small parcel of land, the cars we drove would fit you just couldn't open the doors to get out of the car while parke din the garage & none of the cars I ever owned had a sune roof so climbing out the top wasn't an option either.  :) 

While cleaningout my Granparents places we all wondered how they kept so much stuff in their small apartments. We had downsized them years ago when they moved out of the houses, but still they had SO MUCH stuff we all still wonder how it all fit & the places always looked clean & organized? I guess its all in how you pack it away no matter how much space you have?...   

Bert ~ You need to read Anthony Bourdains Kitchen Confidential ~ He pretty much says the same thing about people running a kitchen who have no Biz doing so as you have.....

I suddenly have this impulse to clean...
Between this topic, the spring-like weather, and my best girl friend visiting all next week, I know there is no use fighting the feeling. It'll all be over by Sunday, at the latest.
Interestingly, now that I'm thinking about it, my friend is a compulsive cleaner. She won't admit it, though, preferring to say she is just "neat and tidy" - as she wipes the water out of her tub, after each shower, and directs a fan at the shower curtain to dry it out. (As Mark Twain said: "Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.")
Maybe I'm living my inner OCD vicariously through her...
 
Bert ~ I will. I think I'm the luckier one. He is very patient and easy-going. I wouldn't trade him for all the clean and orderly rooms in the universe.

Isles ~ How are the renovations coming along? ~ your pics caused quite the discussion at the pub the other week ~ thanks to them all the wives & GF's are mad cuz the guys there all want to now buy a houseboat. Of course I told the guys to do it & that most likely did not help matters.. Oh well it was fun for them to dream about it all for awhile until they realized even though we live in a shipping community we all have Zilch when it comes to nautical skills unless we are on our own river fishing boats.  
 
For the reocrd I don't even want to try to comprehend the downsizing I would have to do to live on a boat... Am having a hard enough tiem doing so in the tiny apt. I am live'n in right now.. Which I should be unpacking & pitching but you know today the Eye topic calls & so here I am...
 
 

Kindlee:    Symbiotic  relationship,  but  in  the  good 50-50%  sense,  NOT  like  parasite-prey.......   Now  I'm  REALLY jealous.

Nice  post, Julia Masi.    No  matter  how  obsessively  you  might  try  to  repair  or  replace  relationships  with  stuff,  even  premium  stuff,  it's  still.....STUFF.  Sometimes  we  have  to  learn  to  either  reconcile,  repair,  or  move  on.

I would like to petition Mr. Peterman to allow a side spur for the sepia train, and that spur will bisect the best dam multi yard sale. All the "saved treasure","found art" listed lovingly above,on view behind tightly closed EyE lids beautifuly arrayed for perusal and"regifting". The proceeds could go to buy a museum car to be between the bar/club car, and the dining car. That serves a great purpose-those 33" waist pants might deter the extra dessert...   ;-)

Eventually, as you de-clutter, you will run into a wall, as you run out of things to get rid of. I'm close to that point. It is an odd feeling, because I am now used to the idea of getting rid of things (I go to used bookstores more to sell books than to buy them, but I never leave empty-handed). But it is harder and harder to find things to get rid of.

It has gotten to the point where it drives my family crazy around Christmas/Birthday time. It is hard to buy things for someone who doesn't really want anything.

kindlee:  great post.  I'm going to send it to my daughter, seriously -- your experience is so similar to hers, and the letting go is awfully hard, but she had to learn to do so after the addition of the 3 children.  She's still working on it, the letting go of control, the living with "acceptable" clutter that a family brings -- she's happier letting go, but it's not been easy.
 
 
again, great post!

I prefer watching 'Clean House' (Style channel) to 'Hoarders.'  The 'Hoarders' seem so sick!  Both shows make me feel a lot better about myself and my personal clutter!

As for myself, I've come to discover that crowded closets -- just the knowledge that they are overstuffed -- makes me nuts.
 
"Less is more" is an over-used phrase maybe, but it's true.  For me, Less is just fine. 
 
And you don't have to dust Less very often; More requires much tending.
 
Who's got the time to waste, really, doing that?   Dusting the dust off the dust of a relic from time past that I will never miss if it weren't in my life.
 
Caveat:  my plastic moose on the bookshelf in the other room? from my "Northern Exposure" days?  He is a treasure, not a relic, and the above rules do not apply to him.
 
;)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The show "Hoarders: Buried Alive"? I've watched that twice now, it's like watching a train wreck, I can't turn away -- but it's one of the most frightening disorders I've ever heard of.

My god.

Last week, there was this very intelligent sounding man, looked fine, sounded good -- you had to climb over 3 feet of stuff to "walk" through his house.

I've never seen anything like it.

And I haven't heard any one of those psychologists who "assist" these people in getting rid of their stuff discuss the underlying causes of hoarding. It's more than just holding on to things, these things must mean something to these people, or they could part with them without throwing fits.

Very upsetting to watch, that show.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac
 
 
The Classic Last World on Stuff.
 
 

Rings90:    When I  was  single,  footloose  &  fancy  free,   I  actually  spent  a  lot  of  time  contemplating  the  real  possibility  of  moving  to  a  marina on  the  Ohio  River,   and  living  on  a  houseboat.   I  had  a  man  from  adult  probation  who  did  that  already,  he  loved  the  lifestyle.   Short  straight  beautiful  commute  along  Riverside  Drive.   Really  decent  restaurant  &  cozy  but  not  stuffy  cocktail  lounge.   Lots  of  nonresident  slips  rented out  to  people  who  would  give  me  a  "free"  day  on  the  water,  provided I  did  something  special  in  return  {i.e.,  bring  a  5th  of  Jamison's  or  a  case of  Guiness  Dark}.   And  did  I  mention the  women?   OMG.....what  a  "chick  magnet,  ashore  &  afloat.  
THEN:   Fate  stepped  in,  along  with  my  guardian  angel.   My  friend  Pete  got  secretly  indicted  by  the  grand  jury,  seems  he  was  supporting  his  upgraded  lifestyle  by  putting  his  hand  in  the  drawer  where  probationees &  parolees  pay  fines, court  costs,  restitution....and  he  had  "sticky  fingers."    My  living  anywhere  him  would have  meant  professional  death,  via  hearsay  &  innuendo....     Reason # 137  why  I  continue  to  regularly  go  to mass  on  Sundays,  most  of  the  time  dragging  my  daughter  Skyler  outta  bed  by  one  foot,  kicking  &  screaming....but  she  SAYS  she  still  loves  me...lol 

Having had to service electrical and refrigeration systems on houseboats,and sail boats alike,let me tell you one thing - - spiders

I've been trying to declutter and minimize excess by selling things on e-bay.
 
My brother has a "one in one out" rule.
 
 
I like MICHAEL don't really want anything and for gifts would prefer to be taken out to dinner, get flowers or have a donation made to a charity.

I wouldn't say I "save" paper or "hoard" paper, but I sure seem to have a lot of it! Part of the problem is mail--I'm sort of hoping the post office WILL drop Saturday delivery. Part of the problem is the Need to Know--how does one NOT keep every scrap of paper that comes through with a bit of information that might be useful one day or that is simply "interesting"? How does one stop taking notes all the time when one hears and reads so many interesting things? I'm sure I would accomplish a great deal more if a single square foot of work surface could be found on my desk.

I confess to having two cars in neither of which a passenger can ride because of passenger-seat clutter. Physicians seem to be placed automatically on so many mailing lists that three trees worth of circulars, throwaway journals, and medical association notices arrive everyday.

I don't know, Jean.  But if you figure out how to not read stuff that looks like it could have a fascinating notion or two in it -- please let me know.
 
My desk runneth over, no matter my good intentions.  Paper and notes and books I'm meaning to record a passage from:  this is my weakness (along with my plastic moose in the other room).

KSS:  I thought that's what that other seat was for:  extra pair of shoes, 3 books, kleenex box, notebook, junk mail from last week, and my camera.
 
I'm having a hard time remembering the last time an actual person sat in that seat.

...and a lightweight jacket that isn't mine.

....and receipts....FOR A DONUT?!?

TO ALL THE VILLAGE:
 
 
Y'all have a Great Week End and enjoy yourselves tremenmdously !!! I am shutting down for a while, and gonna take it easy .......
 
 
Blessings .......

Park4:    Please  carry  on  in  my  absence  over  the  weekend,  my  laptop  is  being  tweeked,  tuned,  and  repaired......   Let  me  see,  do  my  taxes,  or  watch  NCAA  Basketball?    The  pressure  just  might  be  overwhelming.

But how can you get rid of that little plaster heart with his little handprint on it and "I love you Mommy" from your, now, 42 year old son?   Or the first vocabulary test he had when he was so so young using the word "let" and said "I let a fart"?  Priceless things.

ANDY:
 
That made me laugh and "I let a fart" too.
 
You can't just throw out that stuff.
 
I've kept those things from my 3 sons and now from from my grandchildren too.
 
They are real treasures.

If I had babies I would keep it all. Don't laugh at me.... 
 
Sweet stories.

Korthal -- I even keep a journal of sorts writing down the things they say -- they really are treasures.  My husband still has those juice can pencil holders and rock paper weights in his office on his desk.......it's just hard to part with some ..... well, things.

ANDY:
 
You just can't do it. It's in the motherhood handbook.

Korthal, I know -- it's right there along with "don't date anyone your parents will afraid of" and "if I can live the rest of my life without knowing this <what they are about to tell me, while I'm gripping my chair during, what I called, the white knuckle dinners>, then don't tell me"

Treasures from your kids do NOT count as clutter. They are priceless treasures.

Receipts for donuts are clutter.

IVAN--- you are only going away fro the weeknd -right????
 
Right?????????????
 
We will find you because your posts are never boring & many times they have me belly laughing out loud..........
 
Have a wonderful weekend.....

For, not fro...........

really, it is all about the order of things...for instance; my donut receipts are filed by sprinkle,glaze,cake,filled,filled with sprinkles on top,chocolate,and powdered.

 Dateline: (where our GPS voice refers to as) a Narbor, Michigan.

It is important to report, and forgive me if this is out ahead of an upcoming topic, that we saw more roadkill muskrats coming over on the interstate than in the rest of our lives prior to yesterday.

Having taken note of people's interest in your possessions can prove useful when it comes time to divest yourself of things. It is, however, important to be able to discern facetious references: 'Nice oil on velvet Elvis,' from sincere ones.

Even then, a request to be notified if that ever becomes available can be like: "I want a pup out of that bitch if you breed her," double check the interest before going ahead and get a deposit in the case of livestock.

A tradesman's helper once got my goat by asking: "What would you take for that?" in reference to a wood Remington shell case containing what might have been a complete collection of Gray's Sporting Journal.

His timing was off and his approach irksome at the time.

For some reason, I kept his card and years later, called the number on it to see if he still had an interest.

The day was colder than hell, below zero and windy and his wife didn't want to disturb him. He was outside trying to finish installing some windows in the home of a neighbor lady before she came home from the hospital.

Call me cynical but I drove by to look and it was true as far as I could tell and  no, I didn't offer to help.

When he called, I confirmed his interest in the stuff and when he came over to have a close look, he was blown away by the condition and potential value of it.

This predated the Liberty Mutual pass-along-a-good-deed ad campaign and I had a spot of trouble explaining that I figured him to be a good guy and sometimes good things happen to good guys and this was one of those: "Just take it."

I was forced to say, as well, that I knew his interest to be commercial and that he was free to do what ever he wanted with the stuff or the money he made selling it.

He was still a little dubious wondering if their were responsibilities attached.

"You're prepaid," I explained and went back into the house before it got any more like pulling teeth.

It gets easier the more you do it.