Monthly Archives: May 2018

Philosophy of Clean

It seems to me that there are “truisms” about cleaning. Some of these I’ve discussed:

  1. Clutter is usually made of “stuff.”
  2. “Stuff” is frequently made up of pieces you can pick up with your hand.
  3. Hard surfaces are easier to clean than soft ones.
  4. The only way to get an area clean and keep it that way is to keep cleaning.

My new one is related to #4. That people who manage to get and keep areas clean don’t see cluttered or untidy as acceptable.

For someone in their 60s who’s trying to learn to live differently, that last piece is not easy. Even when I clean regularly, I just don’t have that muscle. I’m so used to mess and clutter that I often just don’t see it.

This creates an all-too familiar situation for me: that I clean/cull an area and within a week or so, it’s a mess again.

I noticed this because of yard work. I’ve been working on raking out the beds, specifically, the bulb bed. For weeks I’ve had piles of leaves in the yard. I’ve been pulling them up and taking them to the dump, when I can get to the dump, at a rate of about 8 bags a trip. The piles aren’t there forever, and I finally have one more trip and that’s it to finish picking up those leaves. (It will be 4 trips when I finish.)

I’ve restricted myself. I’ve been slowly, but surely cleaning out the leaves in the other areas, and piling the leaves into neat piles. If I keep it up, it will still be another month or so before I manage to clean up most of the yard. This is an acre and I’ve never done this before; we’ve lived here 20+ years. Lots of dried leaves!

My neighbor’s yard always looks neat. Both of them work on it, instead of one person. And, whatever yard work they do is entirely cleaned up, before they quit. It occurred to me that there are some reasons for this: they have more storage than I do (a garage and a basement) also, they ALWAYS clean up and put away whatever accumulated mess and tools before they quit.

Also, in this neighborhood, we almost all have wood piles. There’s a neighbor who has a wood-fired, exterior furnace, with large wood sheds, as you might imagine. His wood piles, even when it’s a grapple load, are rarely messy. The wood is almost always cut to size and stacked in the sheds. The neighbors with a garage and basement have a small pile of wood for power outages, it’s tidy. Us? We have the end of two cords in a pile in front of the porch — which just looks messy.

The difference is that the large pile and the mess is something we live with, and the others won’t, for whatever reason.

I’ve been pecking away at that pile, a log or two here or there. I’m very aware of my weakened elbow and the potential for permanent injury if I’m not careful. Otherwise, I would have tackled it long since . . . .

But my observations are what got me to item #5.

5.  Keeping an area clean requires the attitude that a hodge podge isn’t visually acceptable.

J

Vocabulary Lesson

I found another label for my decorating style which appeals.

lagom

It’s a Swedish term, meaning not too much, not too little. Perfect!

Hygge, Cwtch, & Lagom

[Sounds like a law firm, doesn’t it?]

I came up with this:


 

Hygge, Cwtch, & Lagom:

Home decorating for the confused or those who just won’t do it like everyone else!


 

I printed it in an elaborate script. I may frame it? Cross stitch? Dunno — we’ll see.

But then serendipity and happenstance got involved. . . when I found lagom, I wrote it down incorrectly, as “lagon.”

Which, according to the urban dictionary, is:

The mythical beast you must slay to get anything done online.

Which resonates of course.
No test; I promise!
J

Failure #2 (not Ours)

Okay. I called the electric company as I’d planned on Monday,

The person I talked to said someone would call us back. They did, but it showed up on the caller ID as a generic 800 number. I don’t know about you, but we get spoofed caller IDs more often than we get legit ones, so we didn’t answer the phone.

They left a message.

I called them back this afternoon. Explained to the young lady who answered what I wanted to know. She listened nicely then said she’d have to transfer me.

Fine.

But I get an auto-attendant:

  1. Press one if you smell gas.
  2. Press two to report a power outage
  3. Press three to report a corroded meter
  4. Press four to talk to someone about your new meter
  5. Press five to convert from electric to gas powering your home.

Then:

Press star to repeat the menu.

I pressed star, on the off chance that I might get something useful the 2nd time?

Got the same options. Pressed zero, which sometimes works? Nope got same menu.

I hung up.

So, what I’ve got is a company that says we’re using nearly double the power other houses in our area, like us, use. And no way to find out if that takes into account the fact that we work at home and this is a log structure.

As far as I’m concerned, what the company just did was to tell me that they don’t want my business. I would love to convert to solar, always have. Up until they changed the company name, etc. a few years back, I had no reason to; I was perfectly happy with what I had. There are also alternate power companies, which I’ve never even looked at seriously, because, again, I was happy.

What part of you just wasted my time over the course of two days, and my time is valuable to me, is beyond your customer service people and/or programming staff?

I intend to send a hard copy of this to the company. No more electrically facilitated “communication.”

Obviously, that doesn’t work!


Several weeks later: I still have not heard from the electric company. That’s another failure; not ours! 6/19/18

Fail

We failed. Well, sort of ?

We got an energy comparison thing from our electric company. We use 94% more power than people with comparable houses do, on average.

I will call them tomorrow, Monday, and ask them about how much that changes when folks work at home. We both work at home.  No commuting, no lunches in restaurants, no driving, no coffee at the coffee shop or other such.

There are a few things we could do, yes. Making sure we turn off lights would help. Turning off the computers when they won’t be used for more than 1 hour would probably also help. Getting a night light for the bathroom instead of leaving a light on at night would help. But aside from that? Most of our lights are LED, and we sleep, cook, eat, work, read, etc. in the same space day in and day out. We have an energy star fridge and washer/dryer. We have an on-demand water heater. [We wash dishes by hand, a dish washer might be more efficient?] We usually heat with wood and a fan, no furnace going day in and day out.

homelectricityuse

The lights, computers, dishwasher I’m sure would help. I think the phantom load we have because of the computers is probably a large part of it, but I’ll never get DH to shut everything off, unless we were starving. Of course, if it is the computers, then it should be fairly “normal” because most people will have that when they leave for work. Our difference, again, is that we work here. DH works regular hours and I work randomly, day or night, 7 days a week.

It will be interesting to see what they say about home office workers, two of us, both in the same house!


I called. I’m not disputing that we’ve used more energy than last year, but the 94% over “comparable” homes in my area seems suspect. We have a log home, which might make a difference as well as the fact that we both work at home.

They’re going to call us back, tomorrow probably. We’ll see what they say!

I am so lucky

By sheer dumb luck (?) I didn’t get disassociation; Gawd knows, I’d never have come back. Likewise clinical depression, I avoided it too.

I think if I’d been physically or sexually abused one or both of those would certainly have been my reality.

The journey I took was hard enough because of a variety of factors: the biggest one being that no one seemed to think (including my early shrinks) that there was anything really wrong with me I couldn’t just change. Little girls didn’t get PTSD in the 1950s. I was white, upperclass, etc. What problems could I have? Well, yes I didn’t have a mother, but I had caretakers, dorm mothers, camp counselors, doctors (and more doctors), shrinks . . . .  what was my problem?

The description I’ve got in the memoir is that it was like I was a balloon, with a large rip underneath, which no one else saw. They all expected me to soar! I had all these things going for me: beautiful home, enough $, educated family, etc. etc. etc. But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried  —  they didn’t get it. No one did. And that just layered atop the Abuser’s narrative: there was something wrong with me, at my DNA or such. And for whatever reason, for 42 years before diagnosis, I just kept trying to prove her wrong. I kept trying to get my family to tell me they approved of me. I kept trying. I’d win once in a while, but I’d lose more often. Then I’d despair. I became increasingly more bitter and cynical.

Then this 6’1″ miracle happened to me. And things started to change because I believed one person didn’t think I was horrible. I called him my “shield against the world” for most of the first 10 years we were married. Whenever he was out of town, my anxiety went back up to the old levels  — I was back in the hell I’d lived in before: the hostile universe, the world where people would take anything and everything they could from me, because it was me.

It took a long time and a lot of work on his part before I really got that people didn’t see some devil mark on me, that said they should be nasty or whatever. That many people in the world would like me, if I gave them 1/2 a chance. That I wasn’t sub-human, stupid, ugly, and inherently unlovable.  I was starting down that path when my hormones went ape for the 2nd time and I had my midlife crisis, over 20 years ago now.

And got a hugely lucky break. The marriage counseling we got was from a woman who knew about PTSD.

She diagnosed and helped me learn how to  deal with it. We learned to deal with the things we hadn’t been able to and I kept seeing her, over 12 years by the time she retired.

Somewhere around 55, I stopped hurting. That was so phenomenal! The really odd thing for me was that no one noticed! I wanted a parade, a statue put up, something !!! It had been my goal as long as I could remember: “Don’t hurt.”

I still carry the pain, but these days it’s not ever-present, it’s associated with my past. And, yes, I still chose every day to deal or cope with it, or not. But because it’s no longer associated with HERE and NOW I can make that decision nearly automatically to NOT deal with it, not have it be part of my narrative today. I finally have a life which is not wrapped around hiding the pain, excusing the pain, explaining the pain, showing the pain or denying its existence.

It’s there, and most days I don’t have to deal with it any more; most days. Of course, this is PTSD, which means that at any moment, life could just pick me up and throw me into the fun house and away we go. The Hallmark movie not too long ago was one. A bigger one was the knitting. Both completely unexpected — SURPRISE!!!!

Gee thanks.

 I still say I’ve been incredibly lucky. And that’s a good thing. I’m sure I would have otherwise not attempted suicide; I would have killed myself.

Without my husband, without diagnosis, without the work from all of us: myself, husband and therapist, I would still be living in that fun house, that hostile and pain-filled universe. It was unbearable at 16, when I first attempted suicide, because as I said at the time, “I can’t imagine living this way until I’m 40.”

It was hard. It was awful. And I’d love to find out if life has something else I can do? We’ll see. My luck may have been all been used up, getting here — or maybe not?

(The image below AND the quote (obviously) are not mine!)

P.S. I don’t know if I agree with the quote actually, but it fit the post nicely! (I’m enough of a writer/editor to find that irresistible.)

P.S.2: The more I think about it, the less I agree with the quote. It was good luck that I was born white, privileged and into an educated family. Had nothing to do with my work or willingness to work. Although if I hadn’t done the mental health work, yes, I would still be where I was. Change takes work AND luck, but luck (or lack of it) starts with things out of your control: skin color, relative amount of available money for education, educational levels of people around you, area of residence, etc. None of that has anything to do with a child’s work when it is born.

Walter Mosley, the author, was a McDowell scholar one year. He came in the bookstore. He is an educated, articlulate man, who was born and raised in Watts. We were the antithesis of each other, as I was raised in a white, well-to-do enclave in Los Angeles in the same period. My mental illness and such caused me to not make use of many advantages I was born into. His hard work and abilities caused him to become the celebrated man he is.  Which of us is lucky? Him for being able to become the person he was or me for becoming the person I have?

Without the money, etc. I had behind me, I could not have focused on my mental health. I would have had to focus on making money to eat and put a roof over my head. In that way, I was really, really lucky. And, again, I had nothing to do with it.

Quotation-Barbara-Sher-The-amount-of-good-luck-coming-your-way-depends-on-66-82-62

I find the “just work harder” notion promoted by many really bizarre. If you are working 3 jobs just to feed yourself and your kids getting a PhD or even an AA isn’t an exercise in hard work, but a magical ability to make 24 hours into more.

Equally, the “save 1/2 of your food bill” idea only works if you can do things like buy 5 lbs of flour instead of 1 or buy a pot roast to cut up, or go to multiple stores to buy things on sale, or . . . when you are truly on the edge of or just over a survival level that is not realistic.

It’s easy to forget that.

And that’s my problem with the quote above. It presumes that you have the resources to act on your behalf, not that you are doing everything you can to simply survive.

My Spring Cleaning

Well, so far, what have I done?

  • Kitchen: cabinet fronts on the stove side and counters, except the 3′ x 10′ peninsula. I need to tackle inside the cabinets etc. or the appliances next.
  • Cleaned the out of season blanket storage basket. Cleaned (ran thru the dryer on air) the blankets which had been stored there and not used to remove any accumulated dust. Need to wash/get dry cleaned the blankets which were used and store them too. I’m not prepared to do that today, so I’ll “air” them as well, until I clean them.
  • The entire laundry room floor was cleaned (the machines were moved.) This had a lot to do with the fact that we got a new to us dryer, but it’s something I rarely do. I normally just clean the area we walk on. The alien ecosystem that exists behind the washer and dryer is normally left untouched, far too much! (Probably should be cleaned quarterly or so?)
  • I have been slowly but surely removing items from the porch and sweeping the revealed space. When it’s cleared enough, I have this delusion I may power wash it, but don’t hold your breath!
  • I have been raking/bagging leaves, pulling rotwood, and twigs for kindling for weeks. It will take me at least as long as I’ve worked on it again to finish the job — at the rate I’m going. It’s getting done, but slowly.
  • I cleaned the part of the closet where the hat boxes had been.

clean-wordpress-database

So, it goes. Nibble, nibble, nibble.

5/7: Finished raking the bulb bed. Scrubbed at cooked on spots, etc. both the stew pot and the largest mixing bowl. Swept the deck/platform, more of the porch and the front stoop.

More Culling

I wrote a comment about clothing on another blog. Occurred to me that the last time I purged/culled the closet, I hadn’t looked at the 2 hat boxes, hadn’t even opened them?

There were 2 purses (I own 3) in one and one hat in the other.

I decided to get rid of the hat boxes, the hat and one of the purses. That leaves me with 2 purses, one now has nowhere to live, it’s a black Coach bag. The purse I’ll get rid of is a light denim blue bag I used in the summer, if I had a reason to do something “fancy” in the summer, which I haven’t since oh, 8 years ago or so?

I no longer own “summer” shoes, that is, a pair of white dress shoes. Of course, for that matter, I don’t own a black “winter” pair either. The last time I went out dressy, I took the small black bag and wore black leather clogs.

I need to return to the French Dressing idea, again. I have gotten far afield from that!

The hat is a grey felt. My first try at a capsule wardrobe, when I worked in an office, oh years ago, was to use greys as my background and build from there. The hat was bought for that. The last two times I’ve worn it have been for funerals: my Dad’s and a dear friend’s. My dad liked me in hats. The hat was special and a way to honor Jane; she would have understood that.

Also for Jane’s funeral, I bought a funeral shirt, which is a cream, black and white expensive, patterned classic blouse.  I bought it 12 years ago or so and used it a few times for this funeral or that. Just about the time I would have chucked it, an old boyfriend/neighbor died. The next year another childhood friend died. I haven’t used it for the past few years. I don’t know where the funeral shirt is? After wearing it for 5 or 6 funerals, I may have just bundled it into the goodwill box after the last one. I know I wanted to! The shirt still looked good on me; it’s still in fashion, but . . . . If I still own it, I may chuck it.

Also today, I pulled the obvious winter clothes from my closet. The big problem with this is that although our plans include closet space for out of season clothing, right now it doesn’t exist, so it just becomes clutter. If I can find the large roll of brown paper, I can at least wrap the pieces up and get them out of the way that way.

Sigh.

There’s excess clothes everywhere, again. This is going to take some time!


Because of this post and the blog I responded to, I culled one pair of flip flops, a totally ragged pair of sweats, and some yardage. More to do! I forgot that I’d also gotten rid of a blanket. On Sunday, I culled a balaclava, a bed pillow cover, and took the hat boxes and hat to the booth.