a chair is: September 2006

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Why these pictures are GOOD!

This was my shipping table early in September, cluttered, with packing materials, remains of previous packing and books to be listed or catalogued.

This was my shipping table a few days ago:

Why this is better is that it's cluttered with SOLD books, books awaiting packing and shipping. Books that have now been sent on their way. My shipping table and I are back in business!

In the other room, where I have a lot of books stored, as well as my main office desk, I also have the most appalling accumulation of personal books, magazines, catalogs, and PAPER. Bills, receipts, notes, bank statements and more. Way more.
But this picture is GOOD:

because what you see is Sorting-in-Progress. The magazines and catalogues in the picture are now in boxes in my car, from which they will be dropped off at the recycling center. The stack of boxes with the blue plastic basket on top is a centralized amassing of the Paper Clutter. I have already shredded a garbage bag full of bank statements and intend to go through these boxes a little bit each day - okay, who snorted and said, "yeah, right!"...???
I am going to do it as planned. Really.

This picture is good,

because it used to look like this:

Not much difference?
I beg to differ. From six precariously stacked too-high piles of books placed willy-nilly (NOT good for book health at all) to two much shorter stacks and 3 boxes of books, sorted into my very general first sorting round of Fiction, Non-Fiction, Children's.

So. It may not seem like it, but I have definitely made some progress in the last few days, towards reclaiming my bookselling work area and in getting back to work in a small way.
That's good!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I Really Have Started to De-Clutter Again

I think I actually really truly am back to work on getting through the clutter and disorganization of my house and life.

I hesitated to write this earlier, but I think I've broken through my grief malaise. Of course, I had to then break through the bedrock of my congenital malaise/procrastination issues.

And it's extra-hard now. I described it best in a note I wrote to a group of online friends, so I'll just copy that here:

".... I'm dealing with some tough times - 6 months since Patrick's death, he died right before the Spring Equinox, so now to me all the changes, the Equinoxes and Solstices contain a thread to his death. I'm also very close to letting go of my mini-van, which is where Patrick and I spent a huge amount of time together. It's in the shop now and I'll be giving it to Pat's roommate.

I'm also getting back to work, selling books on eBay and soon I may have a chance to sell in an open shop with one of my old colleagues. Getting back to work means I'm trying to make some order in my basement office, work and storage areas. As I've been working down there today, I've been finding so many reminders of Patrick, stray pictures, his old homeschooling journal from 1995....

And the layers and juxtaposition of papers, magazines, notes, receipts, etc., can be read like an archaeological dig -- it's painfully obvious how my life just stopped at certain points in the last 2 and a half years. Patrick's car wreck was November 22, 2004. I came across the Neilsen ratings material I was supposed to use on November 25, the Round Robin letter from my old group of friends in Miami that I initiated in 1992 when I moved here. It came the day of the accident and I forgot about it and I never answered it. The Robin died that day is what I thought when I finally remembered it had come. I hadn't even seen it fron that day until this.

This is work that must be done. This is letting go that must happen.

It's just really hard, though.
thanks for listening..."

What was interesting to me is that my break-through seemed to come with my finally clearing out the mini-van in preparation to give it away. Cleaning out the car is where I started this blog! There wasn't a lot of mess, but the car had boxes of things from cleaning out my mother's apartment months ago....

sigh.

What I'm thinking now is that for those of us who struggle with clutter, de-cluttering is fraught with meaning, that Things hold inexplicable energies that need to be dealt with, stories that need to be told, if only to one's self, before letting them go. And it's strange which Things have meaning for us.

It took me only a half-second's thought to offer on Freecycle the encyclopedia the kids used a lot when they were younger (of course, that letting go gives me Shelf Space - a prized commodity around here), but I agonized over an old cell phone bill.

Today I shredded that May 2005 bill....how could that be hard? But it was - it had pages of calls that Patrick made in May 2005. I stared at the numbers and looked at the times he called mine...and finally put it in the shredder pile.

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da....

Organizing Books I Like

It's Hard to Make a Difference When You Can't Find Your Keys by Marilyn Paul

Official chair is...
Folk Song & Folk Tale

Why an official blog folk song & tale?

There's A Hole in the Bucket

There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza,
There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole.

So fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it.

With what should I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I fix it, dear Liza, with what?

With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, with straw.

But the straw is too long, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The straw is too long, dear Liza, too long.

So cut it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So cut it dear Henry, dear Henry, cut it!

With what should I cut it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I cut it, dear Liza, with what?

Use the hatchet, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Use the hatchet, dear Henry, the hatchet.

But the hatchet's too dull, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The hatchet's too dull, dear Liza, too dull.

So, sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So sharpen it dear Henry, dear Henry, sharpen it!

With what should I sharpen it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I sharpen, dear Liza, with what?

Use the stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Use the stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, the stone.

But the stone is too dry, dear Liza, dear Liza,
The stone is too dry, dear Liza, too dry.

So wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
So wet it dear Henry, dear Henry, wet it.

With what should I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I wet it, dear Liza, with what?

With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, water.

With what should I carry it, dear Liza, dear Liza,
With what should I carry it dear Liza, with what?

Use the bucket dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry,
Use the bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, the bucket!

But...there's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza...

The Old Woman
and Her Pig

ONCE upon a time an old woman was sweeping her little house, when, to her great joy, she found a silver sixpence.

"What," said she, "shall I do with this little sixpence? I think I will go to market and buy a pig." So the next day she went to market and bought a nice little white pig. She tied a string to one of the pig's legs and began to drive him home.

On the way the old woman and her pig came to a stile, and she said:

"Please, pig, get over the stile."

But the pig would not.

Just then a little dog came trotting up, and the old woman said to him:

"Dog, dog, bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the dog would not. So the old woman held up her stick, and said:

"Stick, stick, beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the stick would not.

So the old woman gathered some bits of wood together to make a fire, and set them on fire, and then threw her stick into the fire and said:

"Fire, fire, burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the fire would not.

So the old woman fetched a pail of water that was standing near and said:

"Water, water, quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't get over the stile,
And I sha'n't get home to-night."

But the water would not.

Then the old woman saw an ox coming; so she said:

"Ox, ox, drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't bum stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go;
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

But the ox would not.

So the old woman turned around and saw a butcher, and she said:

"Butcher, butcher, kill ox;
Ox won't drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go.
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

But the butcher would not.

So the old woman took a rope out of her pocket, and said:

"Rope, rope, hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox;
Ox won't .drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go.
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

But the rope would not.

Just then a large brown mouse ran across the meadow, and she said:

"Mouse, mouse, gnaw rope;
Rope won't hang butcher;
Butcher won't kill ox;
Ox won't drink water;
Water won't quench fire;
Fire won't burn stick;
Stick won't beat dog;
Dog won't bite pig;
Pig won't go.
I see by the moonlight
It's long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago."

"Yes," said the mouse, "I will, if you will give me some cheese."

So the old woman put her hand in her pocket and found a nice piece of cheese; and when the mouse had eaten it:

The mouse began to gnaw the rope,
The rope began to hang the butcher,
The butcher began to kill the ox,
The ox began to drink the water,
The water began to quench the fire,
The fire began to burn the stick,
The stick began to beat the dog,
The dog began to bite the pig,
And the pig began to go.

But what time the old woman and her pig got home you, nor I, nor nobody knows.

--Tales of Laughter (1902), eds. Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith

a chair is

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Why these pictures are GOOD!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I Really Have Started to De-Clutter Again

Links

Organizing Books I Like

Previous Posts

Archives

Official chair is...
Folk Song & Folk Tale

There's A Hole in the Bucket

The Old Woman
and Her Pig

a chair is

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Why these pictures are GOOD!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I Really Have Started to De-Clutter Again

Links

Organizing Books I Like

Previous Posts

Archives

Official chair is... Folk Song & Folk Tale

There's A Hole in the Bucket

The Old Womanand Her Pig

Official chair is...
Folk Song & Folk Tale

The Old Woman
and Her Pig