The Upside to Clutter

The one good thing I've found about clutter is the surprise of space when it is gone.  Here's to The Urge to Purge!

Laundry Quandry

A ridiculous amount of time this week was spent searching for a new washing machine.

Ridiculous, (1) because we are now starting on our third washer in twelve years and (2) because apparently no one can come to a consensus on a quality product.

Decision-making is not my strong point.  I had to consult Consumer Reports (trip to library with six kids).  I had to check out products in person (three stores with six kids after going to said library).  I had to go home to read on-line reviews.  I had to phone a friend (or a sister and a mom) and poll facebook friends. 

Meanwhile the Voice of Reason said, "Just buy a mid-range washer and be done with it."  I think he said this while perusing the diminishing contents of his closet.

I spent a second morning with my entourage at a small appliance store and came home knowing what I wanted.  Only it was a bit out of my range.

IF I had unlimited funds, I would gladly plunk it down on a Speed Queen if it would indeed last 20 years.  If it can handle the loads of a laundromat (pun intended), I think it can handle the Hamills.  But there was no way to justify the price tag.

The thought of another trip out was too much.  It was decision time.  The LG I first considered was going to be a 2-3 week wait.  Um, no way.  Sears couldn't deliver anything until September 7.  I can't wait that long.  Lowe's offered free next day delivery and had a 5-star reviewed machine in stock.  And I could order it over the phone.  Yes!

It arrived this morning and I immediately put it through it's paces.  Eight loads later I can attest to it's effectiveness and Doug can breathe a sigh of relief!

Genetic Disease

The last Thursday of every month - the mouse always salvaged a calendar in January of each new year - was house-cleaning day in the drainpipe.  That meant, for all practical purposes, that Tucker rearranged the clutter of everything that he'd ever collected.  He promised Harry every month that he would get rid of the useless possessions, but Tucker had one of those hoarding souls that couldn't bear to lose a thing.  So he moved all the junk to new locations - at least it made the drainpipe look different - and called it cleaning house.  And each month, with an aching heart full of pride, he did throw away something - but only so he could say to Harry, "Well, I got rid of that, didn't I?"  Four weeks ago it had been a shoelace - horrible loss! - that he put back into the same trash basket that he'd pulled it out of the day before, and this month - this month - Tucker looked around.  The broken glasses had to stay - a real prize, that - and so did the brass belt buckle.  But at last he decided that with a great effort of will he could stand to be separated from a hairpin he'd found two weeks ago.  With a heavy sigh he threw it out the drainpipe opening, and hoped that some young lady might find it, and wash it, and use it.  It wasn't that he was completely a miser - he was a bit of one to be sure - but Tucker also couldn't bear the thought of anything being simply wasted.

Harry Cat's Pet Puppy by George Selden

It's a sad sickness that seems to run in the family.  I'll be the first to admit that I myself may possess a touch of it mainly due to my parent's each passing it along.  I know my grandfather suffered terribly (his "building" bearing testimony), and conversations of late with my mother seem to indicate that her grandfather was afflicted as well.  At least two of our children have inherited the genes, with Stephen showing the most symptoms.

But what many consider a vice has it's bright side of virtue: if you are in need of something strange or uncommon, something out of the ordinary or useless, chances are we can have it.

If only it can be located!

Trip Down Memory Lane

I cleaned out my old high school/college backpack so Josie could use it for an upcoming trip.

I found Scrabble tiles that my first RA in college put on our doors; my college id and combination to my mailbox; a business card for the jewelry store where I purchased Doug's wedding band; a receipt for the dining room table we purchased before we got married; my achievement badges from ice skating lessons I took while Doug was in law school; an unused promotional card for Arby's (I don't think I've ever eaten there); and an assortment of pens, paperclips and old candy.

December Photo Project: Day 18

 

Christmas lights make folding laundry just a bit more pleasant.

Pantry Love

"Oh, I just love to clean pantries," Donna said.  The two girls held hands and ran across the lawn toward the Hollister house.  

The pantry was a large walk-in closet entered by a door in the kitchen.  It was bright and cheerful, having a window high on the outside wall. 

Shelf after shelf was covered with red and white paper, and on them were stacked neat rows of canned goods, spices, bottles of ketchup, maple sugar, and other good things to eat.  On the bottom one stood yellow canisters of flour and sugar.

"This will be fun to clean," Donna said as the three girls surveyed their chore.

The Happy Hollisters and the Sea Turtle Mystery by Jerry West

 

Via



Via

Via

Oh, how I love an organized pantry!  Aside from the beauty of clean and neat, I think it conjures warm memories of my childhood.  One grandmother had a walk-in room off her kitchen which housed neat rows of cans and jars (and an ample supply of Little Debbie treats!).  My other grandmother had a basement kitchen for her canning, and there was a storage room brimming with jars of apples, beans, tomatoes, and my grandfather's attempts at wine.  At home, I loved to sort and rearrange our own small walk-in pantry (I think my mom appreciated it?!).

But my favorite kitchen of all was an old house belonging to one of my teachers.  As a child, the ceilings seemed to soar.  A bank of windows brought a flood of light into the room.  Cabinets opened to reveal of myriad of shelves for storage.  But it all paled in comparison to the jewel: a butler's pantry!  This darling room was accessed through swinging doors and had lovely rows of cabinets for china, silver and much, much more!

Sadly, I don't have a pantry. I do have a coat-closet-turned-food-storage, but it doesn't function well in the capacity of pantry mostly due to the fact that it is too deep (pantries should be 12-18" MAX). 

But this girl can continue to dream of those organized shelves filled with food stuffs to feed a small army of hungry children.

Digging Out

School has officially wrapped up, and now it's time to deal with the neglected aspects of life

(namely purging, organizing, planning, cleaning, and planting).

December Photo Project: Day 5

I've often felt the best way to deal with house frustration is to purge.

Our house shrinks with the closing of windows and doors and the accumulation of boots and jackets makes it feel tight.  Add to that the excitement five children eagerly awaiting Christmas, and you've got one crazy mom.  So over the last couple of weeks I've been systematically moving through the house, filling bags and tossing like nobody's business. 

Fortunately, we were able open the windows and doors (the weather is unseasonably warm and not quite in keeping with the Christmas atmosphere).  And I finally decided to tackle the growing mountain of papers accumulated through the year.  I will admit that I'm not on the cutting edge of technology.  And I might just have a touch of hoarding running through my veins which would explain why I feel it is necessary to keep every. single. receipt for purchases throughout the year.  But after nearly 3 hours of sorting, filing, and hole-punching, all of the receipts/bills/statements were neatly arranged.  (I even managed to throw away some gas and restaurant receipts...whoopee!)

I think my New Year's resolution should be to go paperless.

White Washin' the Fence

It's been on the to-do list for quite a while: cleaning the fence.

 

 

I don't really have the time.

 

Or the energy.

 

But the kids do.

 

And they're always eager to earn a little money.

 

So they went to work.

 

And guess who stuck with it the longest?

Andrew!

Joe Jr.

I needed to sort through all of our hand-me-down shoes, and I knew it would be thrilling for Josie.

Little did I know that the boys would find it equally exciting.

I kept hearing Jonathan saying, "I'm going to try on these damn shoes!" which was a little unsettling for a number of reasons (we don't say that).

Then I realized he was really saying "jam" which he got from my explanation of jelly shoes.  Whew!

I think these will be valuable shots one day, don't you?

DPP: Stuff and Bother

Even as a child, I would think to myself after Christmas, "What am I going to do with all this stuff?"

So in preparation, we made some donations to our local thrift store.

Giving Thanks: Clean Things

Never underestimate the power of clean.

And while my standards are far below perfect (case in point is the state of my kitchen as I type - there is literally nowhere, not one single spot on the counters to set anything!), I tend towards tidiness.  On a whim I picked up this cleaner, mostly because it was just plain cute.  Turns out it is great for scrubbing those stubborn stains in my kitchen sink among other things, and the container just makes me smile.  Win-win!

DPP: Day 17

So deep cleaning, the scrubbing type is not my forte, and I avoid it like the plague.  But for some strange reason I really like to clean out my fridge (maybe because it's more like organizing), and it was completely necessary seeing as Round Two of Holiday Baking is coming up this weekend.

My strategy for both the fridge and cupboards is to use up everything as if we were moving, toss, wipe, restock.  The current stock isn't for meal-making:

three kinds of milk (whole, coconut, and rice)

three kinds of olives (kalamata, green, and black)

one ham

one box of Vital Wheat Gluten (for what?  I don't even remember)

one bunch of celery

7 eggs

sour cream and heavy whipping cream

32 oz. maple syrup

homemade salsa

1 container of strawberry freezer jam

3/4 of a jar of spaghetti sauce

1 cup of vanilla yogurt

I think I can swing pancakes for breakfast, but lunch and dinner may be a bit trickier.

Goodbye, Old Friend

Seems like it was just yesterday that we met. I was young and naive, setting out on my own for the first time, anxious and eager. As I filled you with necessities, packing and repacking until everything fit just right, I never knew where the road would take us.

You saw me through 3 years of college, up and down the dormitory halls, but more often than not, overloaded for a weekend back home where quarters were not required.

You were filled with strange and new garments as you rode in that broken down U-Haul to travel across the state. Masculine hands faithfully carried you up and down the 3 flights of stairs to the dank, dark basement.

After a year you were moved once again, this time to a new state. Neither rain nor snow nor sleet nor hail kept us from trekking across parking lots to do our duty, week in and week out.

Three years later, we moved once again. The trips outdoors ended, but we did have stairs. And with another person in the house, small though he was, the piles only grew.

A year later, we made our final move: a house of our own - one level (though we must go outdoors).

Its hard to say goodbye, but unfortunately the time has come. You served me faithfully for 14 years, but it's put a toll on your strength and with 3 additional little bodies, you just can't keep up.



As you pass through the recycling center and are reborn into something new, please know that I am indebted to your faithful service to us for so many years.

Good, Clean Fun

Frustrated at my own inability to get anything done, I did what any good leader does: delegate.

The big boys each got a chore chart with three tasks apiece (including cleaning their bathroom since I'm not the one who pees all over the floor).

Stephen energetically tackled his assignment, declaring, "I love doing chores!" and then proceeded to ask for additional work. I immediately pulled out the vacuum and he set to work.

Andrew worked cheerfully as well and then proceeded to conduct a scientific experiment with the power of suction.


Hmmm, do you think they can take over the laundry?

Henry is Dead

I always thought roaches had to be the nastiest insect (at least of those who tend to invade homes). On more than one occasion during our first year of marriage I called Doug in tears over roaches in our humble abode. I knew I just needed to stomp on them, but I was so afraid of them running up my leg or jumping on me.

Then I met cave (or camel) crickets.

These are definitely nastier as they do indeed jump. They love the dark, dampness of our garage and occasionally one will slip into the basement. Like a it did a couple of weeks ago.

I was rearranging some junk in the closet when one startled me. I'm sure I screamed. But try as I may, the little creature alluded my attempts at squashing. It jumped and hid behind some boxes.

A few days later the scene was repeated with the same ending as before.

I called in my help-meet for assistance, but he didn't fare any better.

Another day it alluded me by blending into our brown-patterned rug.

Then earlier this week Stephen appeared in my room while I was napping to inform me that there was a large spider in the basement (we have been inundated with arachnids lately), but I assured him it was only a cave cricket and he was free to kill it. When I went down to release them from "rest time" I found a pile of blankets, pillows, and toys piled against the door to our garage.

"Oh, what's this pile?" I inquired.

"We built a cave for Henry."

Nice. Instead of killing the enemy, they not only name him but build him a home.

Ever since, I've cautiously stepped downstairs, fearing those spindly legs jumping on me. But tonight, Henry met his Maker.

After soaking in the tub, I noticed the creature had slipped under the bathroom door. In a flash not-known to many 41+ week pregnant ladies, I scooped up the October issue of Country Living and ended that insect's life. I feel no shame; I have no regret.

Henry is dead.

Only wish I could say the same about his numerous relatives.

Third Time's a Charm

After two failed attempts, this load of towels finally made it into the dryer before smelling sour (tells you a lot about our busy week).

Day Two with One

Even more exciting than a string bean, Matthew got to practice with a spoon.

A messy endeavor but an invaluable skill once mastered.

I'm sad to say I dropped off the productivity curve. Things didn't flow as smoothly today, but I managed to put away all the storage totes, vacuum with a youngster on my back and finally file the stack of magazine clippings that have been sitting on my kitchen counter for months.

Alas, I was not in a mood for continuing through my stack of old magazines (a task which requires a certain mindset). I was able to confirm my suspicions, however, about child-related-magazine companies: they discriminate against boys. I always thought there seemed to be an abundance of girls gracing the covers of these publications, and here is the proof: over a 14-issue period, only three cover models were male.

Sure, girls can wear cute accessories, frills and flowers, but I've met my share of girls who couldn't hold a cuteness candle to my kids (have you ever looked at Stephen's eyes?). I think I will consult with my lawyer to see if I can file a grievance.

Day One with One

At least Andrew and Stephen can read a clock.

Matthew, on the other hand, has no sense of time and began stirring at 6 am. It's all good, however, because he not only took a 2 hour nap in the morning, but followed it up by a 3 hour nap this afternoon. I know there is nothing that I could have done to have deserved such a blessing; the Lord was just merciful.

So what did I do?

Well, for starters, I began the arduous process of trading out seasons of clothes. Thanks to the generosity of my friend Clara as well as her friends and relations, we have received clothing to supply a small army of little boys (which seems to be what we are creating around here). I'm in quite a quandry really as my tubs are full to overflowing: do I get bigger tubs or get rid of some of the goods? I'm hesitant to get rid of much knowing that some items will not make it through this season, and there are future boys waiting in the queue; but really, how many grimy t-shirts does a boy need?

I also managed to wash 5-6 loads of clothes, clean my pantry/hall closet, clean off my kitchen counters, and start to organize our home office/closet. After the afternoon nap, we headed out to vote and then to a K-mart that is going-out-of-business where we snagged these cool sandals.

I always thought it was silly that manufacturers produced miniature sandals in 2s & 3s for babies. I prefer bare feet not only for asthetics, but also for comfort. Really, what baby wants to be laying around in stiff blue jeans and hard shoes? That's why Robeez were created (they just don't provide much protection against rocks and gravel).
Well, I forgot that I am one of those moms whose children have really small feet. Matthew is sporting a size 3 (and they are not that easy to come by when you really need them).

Now he is ready to take on the outdoors with the big boys when they return.

Who Needs Toys

It's now 11 days post Christmas (I'm listening for the 12 drummers drumming that my true love is supposed to bestow tomorrow) and the boys have put aside their prized new toys in lieu of something so much more exciting: the contents of our pantry.

Struck with the "urge to purge" I set out to organize our hall closet/pantry only to discover mice had been feasting and left behind some unpleasant remnants of their eclectic meals (tortilla strips, marshmallows, buckwheat flour, puffed rice, pressed wood, broom bristles).

The boys were eager to be forklifts and haul away the items one by one to the kitchen. While I vacuumed, they constructed tunnels and bridges which Matthew immediately destroyed.


They moved to higher ground where Andrew spent at least 30 minutes playing with a wooden train and a box of sandwich bags. The only disagreement was over the cardboard wrapper of a 6-pack of applesauce, but the fun ended when I had to play Pick-Up-Sticks with angel hair pasta.

Next they played out a Busytown story in which Huckle Cat was sent to the grocery store for his mother but returned with all the wrong items. This occupied another full hour, filling shopping bags (paper, of course) and dumping them out.

What great helpers now; I only hope they are this eager in another 12 years!

Added picture bonus:

He never ceases to make us laugh!