Why is parting with possessions so difficult? Perhaps I should ask, "Why is parting with possessions so difficult for some people?"
I am not a hoarder - not even close. My mother was not a hoarder but she did keep lots of 'stuff'. My 'growing-up' home had a cluttered appearance in some of the rooms, but that was mostly on counter tops or other surface areas. All the 'stuff' mom kept was kept in drawers or stored away in boxes in the attic or closets. The house was clean except for all of the 'old' food that was never thrown out in the refrigerator. We could never eat 'new' food until the 'old' food had been consumed.
Because my mom kept 'stuff', it has always been my mission to keep as little as I can possibly be inspired to keep. I am constantly reminded of the past by the 'clutter ghost' that lives on my shoulder and whispers sweet nothings in my ear. Sweet nothings that encourage me to rid, rid, rid the closets of unused, unwanted, and unnecessary belongings. So do I have clutter skeletons in my life? Absolutely and some of them make no sense to me.
My 'keeping' challenges have evolved over the years, probably as my space limitations have changed. I've always had to battle the box demon and have been more successful, as the years go by, overcoming the box demon even without a twelve-step program. It is hard to put a perfectly good, solid box into the recycling bin, but I can bring myself to part with those charming cardboard containers more and more.
Another 'keeping' challenge is old, comfortable and soft articles of clothing. My skin has never liked scratchy fabrics and, as I get older, that trait seems to be more exaggerated than in my youth. My recent triumph over the 'soft and comfortable' demon came just yesterday as I forced myself to finally part with an old pair of sweat pants. These ratty-looking green sweats have been my workout sweats for more years than I'd care to acknowledge or even think about. Over the past six or so months, numerous holes developed to the point that they needed to be discarded but I could not bring myself to part with my green faves.
The parting procedure began about six weeks ago when I purchased a replacement pair of sweats. I couldn't find green so I had to settle with black. The black sweats were comfortable from the outset and it should have been a simple act of throwing out the old, but I just couldn't bring myself to drop my old faithfuls into the garbage. Two days ago I had a stern talking to with myself and said, "Self, this is ridiculous." The path I took to release them was equally ludicrous. I needed to know they would go on to a better life so I asked my SO if he needed any rags to take to the barn. Affirmative. So there was the second life for my ragged, green sweats. I washed them up but then came the last, challenging step.......cutting the fabric. Holding the shears, and actually squeezing them together, through the faded, green material was difficult. When I was done, the waistband, ankle bands, and seams were clipped off and lay in a pile. Dropping the pile of discarded material into the wastepaper basket was the final step.
Is this not silly?
I am happy to report that I have moved on. This morning I donned my black sweats and the world continued to turn on its axis.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
Pantry Surprises
This blog topic just changed - because of a typo! I was going to write about something I learned at a dinner party this past weekend. Something that both disturbed and amused me. Kids, these days, are using nutmeg to get high!?!? I suspect we've all known for years not to eat poppy-seed muffins before taking certain medical tests. "Seinfeld" taught us that, if nothing else, but nutmeg? What other standard spice can become suspect? Nutmeg? It simply belongs in apple pies and sprinkled atop of coffee, hot chocolate or Tom and Jerrys, not on a list of harmful substances commonly found in a household pantry.
But, on to my change-of-topic topic.
This is connected to a conversation I was part of yesterday at a Holly Daze open house, when those of gathered in a crowded corner turned to the subject of today's methods of communicating; i.e. emailing, twittering, and texting. We discussed the perils and pitfalls of the current-day practice of abbreviating almost every word, trying to avoid abbreviating almost every word, knowing which setting to abbreviate in, and the future of spelling for today's youth. We all agreed that although 'spell-check' is convenient, it is a crutch upon which dependence foretells a loss of spelling knowledge and ensures future generations of non-spellers, not to mention the loss of the cursive-writing as a method of communication.
Yes, the need for the ability to spell, on our own without the aid of artificial intelligence, is great and vastly underestimated. Case in point: My blog title for today.
I was typing rapidly, intending to type the title "Pantry Surprises", but instead, in my haste, I left out one very important letter from the word 'pantry'........the letter 'r'. Just suppose, for one second, that I relied completely on spell-check to alert me to a misspelling. I would never had been prompted to check my spelling error because the word that I actually typed, panty, is a word and, as such, would not have been flagged by my computer as a misspelling. Imagine the surprise of any blog reader who would log on to Ancora imparo and find the title - Panty Surprises.
Perhaps readership would increase exponentially?
Ancora imparo
But, on to my change-of-topic topic.
This is connected to a conversation I was part of yesterday at a Holly Daze open house, when those of gathered in a crowded corner turned to the subject of today's methods of communicating; i.e. emailing, twittering, and texting. We discussed the perils and pitfalls of the current-day practice of abbreviating almost every word, trying to avoid abbreviating almost every word, knowing which setting to abbreviate in, and the future of spelling for today's youth. We all agreed that although 'spell-check' is convenient, it is a crutch upon which dependence foretells a loss of spelling knowledge and ensures future generations of non-spellers, not to mention the loss of the cursive-writing as a method of communication.
Yes, the need for the ability to spell, on our own without the aid of artificial intelligence, is great and vastly underestimated. Case in point: My blog title for today.
I was typing rapidly, intending to type the title "Pantry Surprises", but instead, in my haste, I left out one very important letter from the word 'pantry'........the letter 'r'. Just suppose, for one second, that I relied completely on spell-check to alert me to a misspelling. I would never had been prompted to check my spelling error because the word that I actually typed, panty, is a word and, as such, would not have been flagged by my computer as a misspelling. Imagine the surprise of any blog reader who would log on to Ancora imparo and find the title - Panty Surprises.
Perhaps readership would increase exponentially?
Ancora imparo
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Guess Who Had The Last Laugh?
I am happy to report that Mother Nature, with whom I have this running love/hate relationship, did not triumph over the dinner party last night. Everyone made it from their destinations, safe and sound. The people with the least distance to travel had, perhaps, the poorest of driving conditions on the first leg of their journey, so they left early, only to discover that the interstate was in much better driving condition than they thought it would be, and, thusly, arrived about thirty-five minutes early. Which was fine and fun. We were ready, just doing last minute kitchen preparations and we enjoyed the extra minutes of conversation and easy laughter.
As each couple arrived and hugs and greetings were exchanged, the laughter level rose until there were eight people, happy to be re-united and eager to hear about what each family had been doing since we last laughed together. Of course, there was conversation revolving around boating, since that is what initially anchored us together. (pun intended) But there was plenty of other general conversation about politics (We do have some polar opposites among us.), church involvement, work (One of us is still gainfully employed and one is employed part-time. The rest of us are now societal slackers, I guess you could say.), former work (two owned and sold their profitable businesses), and whatever other tack the conversation thread took us on. With this group you never know what direction the lively conversation will travel in. One of the more interesting conversation threads involved everything coffee, from where to buy your beans, to what type of beans to purchase, to the proper temperature with which to brew your coffee, coffee grinders v.s. bean crushers, the importance of a uniform grind to the beans, the best coffee brewing machines, etc. All, of course, interjected with laughter since there are some very funny people in this group. Even the topic of what foul-weather gear to wear became so humorous I don't think I can ever don clothing for inclement weather without a smile coming to my face. Brussels sprouts as a topic of humor? With this group, yes!
All of this laughter was inspiring, a good kick-off to the Holly Daze season. It felt good to laugh and be merry, even if it was for just a few hours. For those few hours, the realities and frustrations of life were temporarily shelved and, yes, forgotten about. The pumpkin did really become transformed into the glittering carriage and although the pumpkin reappeared at midnight, it looked better than before.
For this I am thankful.
Ancora imparo
As each couple arrived and hugs and greetings were exchanged, the laughter level rose until there were eight people, happy to be re-united and eager to hear about what each family had been doing since we last laughed together. Of course, there was conversation revolving around boating, since that is what initially anchored us together. (pun intended) But there was plenty of other general conversation about politics (We do have some polar opposites among us.), church involvement, work (One of us is still gainfully employed and one is employed part-time. The rest of us are now societal slackers, I guess you could say.), former work (two owned and sold their profitable businesses), and whatever other tack the conversation thread took us on. With this group you never know what direction the lively conversation will travel in. One of the more interesting conversation threads involved everything coffee, from where to buy your beans, to what type of beans to purchase, to the proper temperature with which to brew your coffee, coffee grinders v.s. bean crushers, the importance of a uniform grind to the beans, the best coffee brewing machines, etc. All, of course, interjected with laughter since there are some very funny people in this group. Even the topic of what foul-weather gear to wear became so humorous I don't think I can ever don clothing for inclement weather without a smile coming to my face. Brussels sprouts as a topic of humor? With this group, yes!
All of this laughter was inspiring, a good kick-off to the Holly Daze season. It felt good to laugh and be merry, even if it was for just a few hours. For those few hours, the realities and frustrations of life were temporarily shelved and, yes, forgotten about. The pumpkin did really become transformed into the glittering carriage and although the pumpkin reappeared at midnight, it looked better than before.
For this I am thankful.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, December 4, 2010
The Nemesis
Thwarted? Vexed? Confounded? That was and is me as I've watched Mother Nature's untamable hand deal a dose of snow, the amount of which is still to be determined. Why do I care? Well, two pans of homemade lasagna, Italian salad, twenty-four brussels sprouts, one pound of bacon, fresh artichoke dip, squash, Jarlsberg cheese spread, three-cheese garlic bread, and one freshly-baked carrot cake....plus the promise of lively conversation and cameraderie.......that is why.
We are hosting a dinner party tonight.....for either eight people or two, six of whom would have to travel at last an hour or more. I was up several times in the night, simply to gaze out the window to see the snow's progress and accumulation. The weather forecasters, about whom I wrote yesterday, have been busy over the past twenty-four hours preparing our region for anywhere from a dusting to six or more inches. I love the way they cover their derrieres with all the verbal nested 'ifs'. At any rate, the weather is what it is and will be what it will be. In the meantime, I have one tasty dinner ready to go.
It is a good thing that we bought our little freezer last week. Of course, the prospect of a pot of coffee and a whole carrot cake, made from the world's best carrot-cake recipe does have some appeal. I'd better do a lot of shoveling to negate eating an entire carrot cake, in a nine-by-thirteen inch pan....with creamed cheese frosting. This would either be heaven or hell.
Ancora imparo
We are hosting a dinner party tonight.....for either eight people or two, six of whom would have to travel at last an hour or more. I was up several times in the night, simply to gaze out the window to see the snow's progress and accumulation. The weather forecasters, about whom I wrote yesterday, have been busy over the past twenty-four hours preparing our region for anywhere from a dusting to six or more inches. I love the way they cover their derrieres with all the verbal nested 'ifs'. At any rate, the weather is what it is and will be what it will be. In the meantime, I have one tasty dinner ready to go.
It is a good thing that we bought our little freezer last week. Of course, the prospect of a pot of coffee and a whole carrot cake, made from the world's best carrot-cake recipe does have some appeal. I'd better do a lot of shoveling to negate eating an entire carrot cake, in a nine-by-thirteen inch pan....with creamed cheese frosting. This would either be heaven or hell.
Ancora imparo
Friday, December 3, 2010
Interpretation, Anyone?
I'm not a big proponent of prognostication. Really.
Over the centuries, A.D. and before that, B.C., prognosticators were known as prophets and seers. The Bible's Joseph is a well-known seer, being called upon repeatedly to interpret the King's dreams. More recent terms for prognosticators are psychics, mystics, spiritualists....to name a few.
A recent morning found me chuckling as I remembered a dream I'd had just hours before. In my dream, I was driving a huge station wagon like my parents always owned. (We used to refer to these more-than-full-sized, three-hundred-fifty horsepower with V-8 engines automobiles as boats.) I drove the station wagon down a steep set of water-front steps, settling smoothly into relatively shallow water. No harm done to me or the vehicle. I could use a Joseph on this dream. I spent only a few minutes attempting to decipher what the dream meant but quickly gave up and decided that was just wasted time.
Another synonym for prognosticator is forecaster and forecasting, weather-wise, is what is on everyone's mind this morning. For those of us who have weekend plans, the weather forecasters have our rapt attention as a possible storm moves our way from the plains states. Possible is the key word here. Depending on many meteorological factors, the 'front', as the professionals call it, may track north or south, slow (thereby dumping more snow) or fast (thereby producing less snow), blah, blah, blah. Weather forecasters and meteorologists always give so many possible variables that it could turn out to be eighty degrees, instead of a winter storm, and there would be some reason why that remote scenario happened. For those of us who live in areas where snow is a fact of winter life, it is almost as if we need to pack winter-survival trunk bags with not only a blanket, hat, mittens/gloves, road flares, but also shorts, tees, and sandals to be ready for any type of weather that Mother Nature may throw our way.
The other type of prognosticator is the economic market analyst. I won't even go there. These are the people who tell us the market reacted because someone with blue blood sneezed at a cocktail party somewhere on either the east or west coast. Remember the dream I mentioned a paragraph or two ago? I wonder how many market analysts could fit in a full-size station wagon?
If anyone can interpret the content of my blog postings, I'm all ears.
Ancora imparo
Over the centuries, A.D. and before that, B.C., prognosticators were known as prophets and seers. The Bible's Joseph is a well-known seer, being called upon repeatedly to interpret the King's dreams. More recent terms for prognosticators are psychics, mystics, spiritualists....to name a few.
A recent morning found me chuckling as I remembered a dream I'd had just hours before. In my dream, I was driving a huge station wagon like my parents always owned. (We used to refer to these more-than-full-sized, three-hundred-fifty horsepower with V-8 engines automobiles as boats.) I drove the station wagon down a steep set of water-front steps, settling smoothly into relatively shallow water. No harm done to me or the vehicle. I could use a Joseph on this dream. I spent only a few minutes attempting to decipher what the dream meant but quickly gave up and decided that was just wasted time.
Another synonym for prognosticator is forecaster and forecasting, weather-wise, is what is on everyone's mind this morning. For those of us who have weekend plans, the weather forecasters have our rapt attention as a possible storm moves our way from the plains states. Possible is the key word here. Depending on many meteorological factors, the 'front', as the professionals call it, may track north or south, slow (thereby dumping more snow) or fast (thereby producing less snow), blah, blah, blah. Weather forecasters and meteorologists always give so many possible variables that it could turn out to be eighty degrees, instead of a winter storm, and there would be some reason why that remote scenario happened. For those of us who live in areas where snow is a fact of winter life, it is almost as if we need to pack winter-survival trunk bags with not only a blanket, hat, mittens/gloves, road flares, but also shorts, tees, and sandals to be ready for any type of weather that Mother Nature may throw our way.
The other type of prognosticator is the economic market analyst. I won't even go there. These are the people who tell us the market reacted because someone with blue blood sneezed at a cocktail party somewhere on either the east or west coast. Remember the dream I mentioned a paragraph or two ago? I wonder how many market analysts could fit in a full-size station wagon?
If anyone can interpret the content of my blog postings, I'm all ears.
Ancora imparo
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Water Spots, Cat Litter and Other Annoyances
Ancora imparo readers know that I rail against cat litter on a somewhat-regular basis. It is similar to dirt, pebbles and sand particles in a camping tent. I know that these irritants are unavoidable, but it doesn't make them any less irritating, now does it? With all of these substances, you can sweep, vacuum, wipe and dust mop until those proverbial cows return home and within SECONDS of the initial removal, more will have appeared.
Water spots are another of life's pesky realities, are they not? Why is it that the act of cleaning produces yet another issue that has to be dealt with? Is this not a household oxymoron? Wash my car to remove the dirt? Better have more clean, dry and soft cloths on hand with which to polish off the water spots. Wash myself in the shower to remove dirt and grime and I had better be standing by to polish off the water spots....not from me but from the surface in the shower. Shower surfaces are equal-opportunity offenders. The surface cares not if it is Italian marble, Vermont granite, the finest of tile from Europe, fiberglass, or pre-fab wall units from a big-box home repair store. Unless you are Oprah Winfrey, who has people to change her bed linens on a daily basis and probably keep her shower surfaces spot-free, then you, too, will have water spots.
Dust.....now there is another impossible household annoyance to conquer. Unless your home is hermetically sealed, in which case I believe you could no longer breathe and dust would matter no more, then there will be furniture dust, dust bunnies, and floor-fuzz from origins unknown or best left unidentified.
Cranky Kitty is a big contributor to the floor-fuzz of which I just 'spoke'. Being part or all Maine Coon, she has this huge tail which emits hair on a per-second basis. You touch any part of her and her body will gladly share some of its constant, excess hair. She is the personification of the word hirsute. I've been thinking that if I could just rig up a dust cloth around her tail then it would be so heavy that it would droop, presumably dragging on the floor and thereby collect all of the hair that her forward body has dropped.
I wonder if Cranky Kitty is up for or down with being helpful?
Ancora imparo
Water spots are another of life's pesky realities, are they not? Why is it that the act of cleaning produces yet another issue that has to be dealt with? Is this not a household oxymoron? Wash my car to remove the dirt? Better have more clean, dry and soft cloths on hand with which to polish off the water spots. Wash myself in the shower to remove dirt and grime and I had better be standing by to polish off the water spots....not from me but from the surface in the shower. Shower surfaces are equal-opportunity offenders. The surface cares not if it is Italian marble, Vermont granite, the finest of tile from Europe, fiberglass, or pre-fab wall units from a big-box home repair store. Unless you are Oprah Winfrey, who has people to change her bed linens on a daily basis and probably keep her shower surfaces spot-free, then you, too, will have water spots.
Dust.....now there is another impossible household annoyance to conquer. Unless your home is hermetically sealed, in which case I believe you could no longer breathe and dust would matter no more, then there will be furniture dust, dust bunnies, and floor-fuzz from origins unknown or best left unidentified.
Cranky Kitty is a big contributor to the floor-fuzz of which I just 'spoke'. Being part or all Maine Coon, she has this huge tail which emits hair on a per-second basis. You touch any part of her and her body will gladly share some of its constant, excess hair. She is the personification of the word hirsute. I've been thinking that if I could just rig up a dust cloth around her tail then it would be so heavy that it would droop, presumably dragging on the floor and thereby collect all of the hair that her forward body has dropped.
I wonder if Cranky Kitty is up for or down with being helpful?
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Mathematical Mystery
Email forwards are a curious phenomenon, aren't they? There are the forwards that tell you that you must send the email to ten of your friends and one back to the person who sent it to you in the first place, or something horrible will happen to you......something like facial warts or unsightly hair will grow between your eyes. There is always some unspoken threat if you dare to break the chain. This is nothing more than the modern-day version of the old chain letter. Remember the chain letter that told you if you added your name to the top of the list and then sent a dollar to the last person on the list, you'd end up getting five thousand dollars, or some other ridiculously phantom amount. I'm certain that I fell for that chain promise at least once in my younger years. Then there was the rumor that chain letters were illegal and if your name was found on one you would be in serious legal trouble.
Different personalities forward certain types of emails. There are some individuals who forward emails that you know will be funny and most definitely will exact a guffaw from the reader. Other email forward 'sources' will send only the kind that have music, scenes of beaches with gentle blowing winds and young children frolicking in the sand, looking all cute and irresistible. Other emails tell you to forward to ten other strong and independent women to celebrate National Strong Women Day, or something like that.
I received a forward, today, from a friend whose emails are always funny and, generally, have a political theme. I find her forwards funny because we share similar political views. I understand that people of differing political persuasions might not nor would not find her forward contents to be humorous. I do.
Today's forward was about finding your favorite movie among a numbered list of movie titles. The instructions were as follows:
Pick a number between 1-9. Multiply by three. Add three more. Multiply that number by three. Then add that number's two digits together and that sum's number would be the movie title on the list that would be your favorite. At first I did not realize this forward had a political undertone to it. I just thought it would be fun to see if I really liked the movie title associated with the initial number I selected. After I did the first numerical iteration, I got curious and ran through the sequence, using every number from one to nine. Sure enough, the final number is always the same. Being a mathematically mental midget, I do not understand how this works, although I do know two people very well who could probably instantly give me the reason why the end answer is the same.
All I know is that it was funny. I do not want to spoil the mathematical mystery by knowing why. Besides, I probably wouldn't understand the 'why' anyway. I just enjoyed the chuckle.
Ancora imparo
Different personalities forward certain types of emails. There are some individuals who forward emails that you know will be funny and most definitely will exact a guffaw from the reader. Other email forward 'sources' will send only the kind that have music, scenes of beaches with gentle blowing winds and young children frolicking in the sand, looking all cute and irresistible. Other emails tell you to forward to ten other strong and independent women to celebrate National Strong Women Day, or something like that.
I received a forward, today, from a friend whose emails are always funny and, generally, have a political theme. I find her forwards funny because we share similar political views. I understand that people of differing political persuasions might not nor would not find her forward contents to be humorous. I do.
Today's forward was about finding your favorite movie among a numbered list of movie titles. The instructions were as follows:
Pick a number between 1-9. Multiply by three. Add three more. Multiply that number by three. Then add that number's two digits together and that sum's number would be the movie title on the list that would be your favorite. At first I did not realize this forward had a political undertone to it. I just thought it would be fun to see if I really liked the movie title associated with the initial number I selected. After I did the first numerical iteration, I got curious and ran through the sequence, using every number from one to nine. Sure enough, the final number is always the same. Being a mathematically mental midget, I do not understand how this works, although I do know two people very well who could probably instantly give me the reason why the end answer is the same.
All I know is that it was funny. I do not want to spoil the mathematical mystery by knowing why. Besides, I probably wouldn't understand the 'why' anyway. I just enjoyed the chuckle.
Ancora imparo
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