Can't help it; I'm compelled to make resolutions at every socially-mandated opportunity there is to make some sort of positive change. So this year I'm going to write (see yesterday) and read more, watch less TV, keep my floors clean and the laundry caught up. Big change here for me; for once I'm not attempting to reinvent my entire home life - just identifying the trouble spots and taking them on. I'll also continue the progress I've made in easing off on the consuming and the associated de-cluttering/downsizing.
And oh yes, plan to lose about 50 pounds (30 of which I gained in the last year).
The weight loss thing grows so very tiresome, but it has to be done. I'm completely out of pants that fit and refuse to buy more; and my feet and knees are really starting to feel it. Like prescription-strength anti-inflammatories feeling it... I'm too young for that, and I'm too committed to the idea of not buying bigger pants when I have so many decent pairs standing by. I must do this.
I'll share the details of my plan and progress once I get them hammered out and figure out a way to share that won't cause random blog passersby to roll their eyes and/or pass out from the very tedium of it all.
Oh yeah, John T. Meldrum, if you are reading this, know that I also resolve to be kinder to you this year; and to (if you'll forgive the expression) lean in instead of pulling away when things get tough.
Showing posts with label housekeeping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label housekeeping. Show all posts
Monday, January 2, 2012
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Frugalista Gets (Less) Crafty
There I was in the craft supply superstore with half an hour to spare, mind exploding with project and decorating ideas, not-quite-maxed-out credit card at the ready....
But wait. Hold yer horses! Another problem area for me, the craft supplies. And all the decoupaged and and glitter-glued baggage that goes along with them. The mess, the pressure, the guilt, the clutter... I mean, what happens to 90% of the stuff we buy at the craft supply place? Probably some combination of unused, half used, and tossed in the garbage due to some horrible glue gun or sequin incident. And, whether made into something or still in the package, it's likely collecting dust and taking up precious storage or display space in my own home or someone else's.
Perhaps the biggest burden, though, is the sense of OBLIGATION that these items bring into a person's life. ("What am I doing lying on the couch watching ripped-to-shreds Alex O'Loughlin catching bad guys while wearing nothing but a pair of cargo pants, when I could be spilling my creative juices all over the house? What a sloth I am.")
I probably have enough supplies on hand already (oh yes, I've had ambitions!) to make a thoughtful, handmade gift for everyone I've ever met.
So, last night I grabbed the two dozen candlewicks I needed (well not actually "needed", per se, but I figured if I purchased wicks then I could use the wax I have on hand to make the candles I plan to foist on some unsuspecting acquaintances or strangers this holiday season), plunked them down (along with my COUPON!) and escaped with only six dollars in damages.
But I can't go back; I'm helpless against the siren song of shiny beads, fluffy yarn, fabric glue, pom poms and wicker baskets.
Farewell and happy holidays to you, Michael's the Arts & Crafts Superstore - I won't be back until next spring at the earliest. Not until my craft supply stash is cut at least in half and this season of "Hawaii 5-0" is over.
But wait. Hold yer horses! Another problem area for me, the craft supplies. And all the decoupaged and and glitter-glued baggage that goes along with them. The mess, the pressure, the guilt, the clutter... I mean, what happens to 90% of the stuff we buy at the craft supply place? Probably some combination of unused, half used, and tossed in the garbage due to some horrible glue gun or sequin incident. And, whether made into something or still in the package, it's likely collecting dust and taking up precious storage or display space in my own home or someone else's.
Perhaps the biggest burden, though, is the sense of OBLIGATION that these items bring into a person's life. ("What am I doing lying on the couch watching ripped-to-shreds Alex O'Loughlin catching bad guys while wearing nothing but a pair of cargo pants, when I could be spilling my creative juices all over the house? What a sloth I am.")
I probably have enough supplies on hand already (oh yes, I've had ambitions!) to make a thoughtful, handmade gift for everyone I've ever met.
So, last night I grabbed the two dozen candlewicks I needed (well not actually "needed", per se, but I figured if I purchased wicks then I could use the wax I have on hand to make the candles I plan to foist on some unsuspecting acquaintances or strangers this holiday season), plunked them down (along with my COUPON!) and escaped with only six dollars in damages.
But I can't go back; I'm helpless against the siren song of shiny beads, fluffy yarn, fabric glue, pom poms and wicker baskets.
Farewell and happy holidays to you, Michael's the Arts & Crafts Superstore - I won't be back until next spring at the earliest. Not until my craft supply stash is cut at least in half and this season of "Hawaii 5-0" is over.
Monday, October 24, 2011
The Frugalista's Free-Stuff Frenzy
I spent an inordinate amount of time in a store today; just wandering around fondling and sniffing the merchandise, fraternizing with the clerks, coveting everything in sight. It's much easier to be a frugalista when you just stay the hell out of stores. On the plus side, all I needed was a greeting card and I had an ancient gift card in my wallet with a mystery balance (which turned out to be FIVE BUCKS- woot!), so I managed to pay only about three dollars for a seven dollar card (okay seven bucks for a greeting card? Whaaat?) So I'm calling the outing a success.
But I've found a new, dangerous outlet for my consumptive urges: free things. Friends have been moving (another post for another day when I can write about it without dissolving into puddles of self-pitying tears) and they've been giving me things. Big things and small things. Like, furniture. And hair conditioner. And oatmeal. And olives in a great big jar shaped like a curvaceous woman's torso...
In addition to what I'm estimating at well over a hundred dollars worth of partially-used pantry and household items, over the last month we've acquired a queen-sized bed, a double bed, two corner shelves, two dining chairs, two dressers, a book-case, a tv stand and, if you go back another two months, a couch and chair set.... All free from friends. It's stuff I like and I am so grateful for it; and it will always remind me of my three awesome girlfriends. But...well...we didn't really get rid of anything; we just got more possessions. And our house is pretty small. While there are some vague plans being made to discard a lumpy, stinky old bed or two, we really are just one more friend-move away from ending up on "Hoarders".
Damn! Gotta find that balance. The idea of not shopping had as much to do with learning to live with less as it did with not wasting money. And here I am with no new pants (huzzah!) and ten "new" pieces of furniture I probably could have lived without (oops!). But did I mention that we have Ovaltine now? And special Italian cheese that comes with its own built-in grater? And volumizing spray? And it was all FREE?
So blessed. So unclear on the concept.
But I've found a new, dangerous outlet for my consumptive urges: free things. Friends have been moving (another post for another day when I can write about it without dissolving into puddles of self-pitying tears) and they've been giving me things. Big things and small things. Like, furniture. And hair conditioner. And oatmeal. And olives in a great big jar shaped like a curvaceous woman's torso...
In addition to what I'm estimating at well over a hundred dollars worth of partially-used pantry and household items, over the last month we've acquired a queen-sized bed, a double bed, two corner shelves, two dining chairs, two dressers, a book-case, a tv stand and, if you go back another two months, a couch and chair set.... All free from friends. It's stuff I like and I am so grateful for it; and it will always remind me of my three awesome girlfriends. But...well...we didn't really get rid of anything; we just got more possessions. And our house is pretty small. While there are some vague plans being made to discard a lumpy, stinky old bed or two, we really are just one more friend-move away from ending up on "Hoarders".
Damn! Gotta find that balance. The idea of not shopping had as much to do with learning to live with less as it did with not wasting money. And here I am with no new pants (huzzah!) and ten "new" pieces of furniture I probably could have lived without (oops!). But did I mention that we have Ovaltine now? And special Italian cheese that comes with its own built-in grater? And volumizing spray? And it was all FREE?
So blessed. So unclear on the concept.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Frickin' Housework!
So I've been trying to figure out why it is that I am so obsessed with housework, and why I think that needs to be the focus of my attention while I am not working. It's kind of making me crazy, because there are clearly so many more entertaining and meaningful things to do right now!
A couple of weeks ago it occurred to me (as I was on my hands and knees unsuccessfully chasing tufts of dog hair and spilled coffee up and down the hallway in filthy pajamas, just like I was the day before vacuuming the basement stairs in pilled fleece pants and a two-day-old t-shirt) that I could probably stand to lighten up just a little on myself. I have such a critical eye; I'm always scanning the background for the thing that's out of place, surreptitiously glancing into the corner for the dust-bunnies, noting whether or not the drapes or the pants are an inch too short or long, checking to see if the shoes, belt and bag match or at least coordinate... It's incredibly distracting. And I am always mortified when someone stops by the house and sees the inevitable dirt and clutter (because it seems no matter how hard I work it still all looks like shite).
I've always thought that the reason my home was less than Martha Stewart perfect was because of my own inefficiency and lack of skill and training in housekeeping. If I could just master the special counter-wiping technique, or train myself and everyone else to follow a routine, develop rituals, find the money to buy the all new everything...
And so, off and on over the last half-dozen years, I've been following the FlyLady - she's all about routines. Unfortunately she is also all about selling her proprietary FlyLady stuff, and filtering through all her puffy-haired, pantyhose-under-the-jeans, Jesus-lovin' BS, etc... so I tend to fall off the wagon - frequently and hard. But even if the Flylady is a little too Right for me - she is absolutely right in that clearing out clutter, and developing systems and routines one at a time, will eventually get the desired result. (visit her at http://www.flylady.net if you're interested - just prepare for some cringing and wincing)
But why do I care so much about this housecleaning business? Why am I always feeling ashamed about the state of my domestic affairs (and it's particularly mortifying when I'm not working outside the home)? I don't really understand what this obsession/compulsion is all about (except the accessories thing - that comes from having Margot Clayton as your mom; even at 82 she still puts herself together perfectly 100% of the time, but she is the most devil-may-care housekeeper, and I've never heard her utter much more than a peep about the quality of someone else's housekeeping efforts); all I know is that not only am I just generally distracted and irritated by the dirt and clutter around me, and I must assume that other people are too, and will judge me. Or worse, they'll feel uncomfortable in my home.
Clearly I can't hold Margot accountable for this one (except that maybe she could have trained me just a little bit better in the womanly art of homemaking), so I'm totally blaming Martha Stewart. Clearly she made just a bit too strong of an impression on me during my early household management career.
And this is the part where I'm supposed to commit to finding other priorities. Or to being a better housekeeper. But I'm not going to. I'm still determined to do both.
A couple of weeks ago it occurred to me (as I was on my hands and knees unsuccessfully chasing tufts of dog hair and spilled coffee up and down the hallway in filthy pajamas, just like I was the day before vacuuming the basement stairs in pilled fleece pants and a two-day-old t-shirt) that I could probably stand to lighten up just a little on myself. I have such a critical eye; I'm always scanning the background for the thing that's out of place, surreptitiously glancing into the corner for the dust-bunnies, noting whether or not the drapes or the pants are an inch too short or long, checking to see if the shoes, belt and bag match or at least coordinate... It's incredibly distracting. And I am always mortified when someone stops by the house and sees the inevitable dirt and clutter (because it seems no matter how hard I work it still all looks like shite).
I've always thought that the reason my home was less than Martha Stewart perfect was because of my own inefficiency and lack of skill and training in housekeeping. If I could just master the special counter-wiping technique, or train myself and everyone else to follow a routine, develop rituals, find the money to buy the all new everything...
And so, off and on over the last half-dozen years, I've been following the FlyLady - she's all about routines. Unfortunately she is also all about selling her proprietary FlyLady stuff, and filtering through all her puffy-haired, pantyhose-under-the-jeans, Jesus-lovin' BS, etc... so I tend to fall off the wagon - frequently and hard. But even if the Flylady is a little too Right for me - she is absolutely right in that clearing out clutter, and developing systems and routines one at a time, will eventually get the desired result. (visit her at http://www.flylady.net if you're interested - just prepare for some cringing and wincing)
But why do I care so much about this housecleaning business? Why am I always feeling ashamed about the state of my domestic affairs (and it's particularly mortifying when I'm not working outside the home)? I don't really understand what this obsession/compulsion is all about (except the accessories thing - that comes from having Margot Clayton as your mom; even at 82 she still puts herself together perfectly 100% of the time, but she is the most devil-may-care housekeeper, and I've never heard her utter much more than a peep about the quality of someone else's housekeeping efforts); all I know is that not only am I just generally distracted and irritated by the dirt and clutter around me, and I must assume that other people are too, and will judge me. Or worse, they'll feel uncomfortable in my home.
Clearly I can't hold Margot accountable for this one (except that maybe she could have trained me just a little bit better in the womanly art of homemaking), so I'm totally blaming Martha Stewart. Clearly she made just a bit too strong of an impression on me during my early household management career.
And this is the part where I'm supposed to commit to finding other priorities. Or to being a better housekeeper. But I'm not going to. I'm still determined to do both.
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