Full Disclosure: I carry the “clutter” gene in my DNA. While my mother’s clan of military migrants moved their Spartan households around the map, my Dad’s family decided there wasn’t an empty bottle or old magazine on earth that shouldn’t be saved. And while half of my chromosomes are Clutter Monkey, my husband got the gene from both sides. Given this, you can probably imagine what our house has looked like in the past. You can imagine it, but you’ll be happier if you don’t try. By March of this year the flotsam and jetsam of life were threatening to swallow us whole. I’ve done a bit to beat back the tide but I’m getting a lot of help from a book my sister sent me. The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo has done more than help clean up my house. It’s brought some needed perspective to my life. Most “how-to” books are filled with lists of steps. Marie Kondo teaches tidying by concept. One of her big ideas for recognizing the extras is to spread out everything you have of some category. Then pick up each item, one at a time, and see if it gives you…
Free, to good home close to me: one wooden student’s desk, desirous of continuing its Academic and Professional career. Although manufactured during the Cold War, Desk’s classic design and sturdy construction have allowed him to support generations of students through many levels of academia, earning various former owners multiple high school diplomas, three associate degrees and a Bachelor of Arts degree (Summa). Desk has also played a substantial supporting role in such post-graduate tasks as resume and correspondence preparation, personal accounting and other personal business concerns. Multiple levels of technology have partnered with Desk (starting with manual typewriters and continuing through CPU’s, CRT’s, printers, scanners, tablets and all-in-one flat screens) and all have found Desk’s surface adequate for their purpose. In addition, Desk has been successfully utilized for reading, creative writing, a solitary meal and the occasional nap. Although possessing only a single drawer, Desk’s storage capacity is surprisingly large, as the drawer can hold upwards of 40 pounds of clutter at a time. This drawer shows a positive talent for attracting and safeguarding all matter of small objects (even from their owners), from pitch pipes and guitar picks to flash drives, keys and pocket change. His open shelves are…
My cat died yesterday. In a world where terrorists gleefully bomb capital cities and spree killers ruin communities with a single gun clip, this seems like such a small event, I almost hesitate to mention it. A cat’s death, what’s a cat’s death, occurring (as it did) on Good Friday? A large percentage of the earth was already mourning a man who changed much of civilization. So, from one point of view, Moosie’s passing was not really worthy of note. On the other hand, it is important because Moose was no ordinary cat. The first everyone noticed about Moosie was his size. While the average domestic cat weighs between 8 and 10 pounds, Moosie more than doubled that weight and his fluffy coat made him look even bigger. He came to our home as a stray,but he fit many of the characteristics of Ragdoll breed with his outsized frame, short legs and sweet temperament. It was clear from the start that he liked being close to people. “We’re going to need a bigger couch” my husband muttered after Moosie jumped up on the cushions. “He takes up half the space.” He irritated the two resident cats with his size, appetite…
My mother loved historical fiction. In the days when Erma Bombeck was the queen of domestic humor, and would be feminists felt caught between Betty Friedan (too serious) and Erica Jong (too randy) historical novels were a thinking woman’s guilty pleasure. More serious than Barbara Cartland’s frothy stories, less licentious than the bodice and pants-bursting tales of the “Sweet Savage” series and miles beyond the Harlequin romances, historical novels combined enough research and literary craft to create entertaining stories that someone wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen reading. About half of the stories were based on historic figures; the other stories were based around historic places and events. The heroines weren’t always beautiful (at least they didn’t think they were) and while most of the stories still focused on a woman’s quest to achieve a happy home, husband and family, the traditional ending wasn’t guaranteed. Mama had a ton of these books and I ran through them all while I was a kid. At the time I thought they were terribly boring; I was in love with “the classics”. The world must have have agreed with my teenaged self , because I don’t see many historical novels these…
A friend of mine died this week. A brain aneurysm no one knew she had ruptured without warning. She lost consciousness and passed away days later without ever regaining it. She was only 51. The morning after she passed away, I kept checking her Facebook page, hoping someone would post a retraction. Oh God, I wanted someone to post a retraction. But they didn’t. They can’t. My friend is gone and she isn’t coming back. Emotional pain on this level leaves me barely able to function at first. I spent the first day wandering around in shock and crying. I wanted to tell someone but I couldn’t decide who to call. There were colleagues we had worked with years ago but how do you call someone, out of the blue, and say, “By the way, a woman you haven’t seen in years died yesterday. Thought you’d like to know.” I wanted to buttonhole strangers and say they’d missed knowing someone wonderful. I wanted to share the pain. I couldn’t. After I came home, frustrated and grieving, I looked up an essay William Allen White wrote when his sixteen year old daughter, Mary, died unexpectedly. Like my friend, Mary White…