The Little Seamstress that Couldn't

SeamSTRESS. Get it? GET IT???

Physical clutter and mental clutter go hand in hand. One of the many, many things on my mental To-Do list for the last several years was to finally learn how to sew.

I picked up a very basic sewing machine at Target for about $20. I collected pretty pieces of fabric from thrift shops and squirreled them away in a box for when I learn to sew. Short of mending a few comforters with torn seams, the sewing machine has never left its box and neither has the fabric.

Like many things on my mental To-Do list, this wore on me and I got really down on myself because I hadn't taken the initiative to learn to use my sewing machine. I had grandiose dreams of making my own clothes and cute up-cycled accessories from thrifted fabric.

What I finally realized was that I didn't really want to learn to sew. I wanted to be a person who can sew because I admire and am envious of all the crafty seamstresses out there. The actual act of sewing holds no interest for me, so I've never bothered to make myself learn. Sometimes we confuse wanting to do or learn something with wanting to be the kind of person who does those things. I had set this goal for the wrong reasons, making it - duh - nearly impossible for me to accomplish.

Come to grips with the idea that some projects are never going to get done, and cross them off your list. I am never going to be a seamstress and learn to make cute ipod cozies and change purses. All that fabric I'm hoarding is just taking up space. I thought it would be disappointing to admit that it just isn't going to happen - that I don't have the dedication or the willpower.

But actually, it was pretty liberating to eliminate that item from my To-Do list. The fabric has been given away. The sewing machine I'll keep for mending, but I no longer have any illusions that it's going to produce great things.

Mental and physical clutter out the door, two birds with one stone.

Item Purge 2010: Wherein I Put Up or Shut Up

In my last post I explained how I got into my current housing situation and accumulated so much stuff, as well as the accompanying financial issues (I am painfully house-poor). Realistically, I probably have what most families in the U.S. view as a "normal" amount of stuff. I know many that even have much, much more. Most families in this country who own homes are completely tied to them - they couldn't pick up and move without enacting some sort of serious plan that in most cases would involve things like multiple moving trucks and storage units. If I were to move today, that's the situation I would be in.

So I'm opting out. I want my life to be simpler so I can spend less time dealing with and maintaining a home and possessions, and more time on the things that are truly important to me. I don't want to live like a monk, but I really want to have only things that I need and truly want in my life. I've been reading a few blogs on the topic of Minimalism (right now I'm really digging mnmlist and Unclutterer) and I'm all geared up and ready to go.

Did I mention I'm addicted to the show Hoarders? That might (MIGHT) have something to do with my sudden need to purge my belongings. The problem is that I don't collect garbage like the people on the show. I have nice things in good working order that I just don't need.

This was the least-gross picture I could find by Googling "Hoarders". You're welcome.

Another problem - I'm trying to be as environmentally responsible as I can manage. So one of the caveats of this little project of mine is that I can't throw any of my belongings in the trash.

So how do I get rid of this stuff?

I'm giving it all away.

I tried a few other methods of disposal before deciding that this was the way to go. Craigslist turned out to be a gigantic pain in the ass, complete with jerks and creeps. Ebay is just too much hassle for so many things. Yard sales never move everything and the profits are little for the work involved. And you know what? This stuff isn't doing me any favors just sitting here, so I might as well give it to someone who can actually use it.

For me, the hassle involved in selling things usually outweighs the financial gains.

Don't get me wrong, I like to make a buck on things, and I do where I can. However, I decided that for the personal hassle and stress involved I had to set a limit. If I realistically think that I can make more than $30 on a single item without having to sit on it for months upon months I'll try to sell it. Otherwise, it's free. Think about all the random brick-a-brack filling your house. How many of those items could you put on eBay, secondhand, and expect to make more than 30 bucks? Unless you're a collector of ultra-rare widgets, it probably isn't many.

My primary outlet of choice for this free-for-all has been Freecycle, and although it comes with its collection of rude people, flakes and weirdos, it's overall been much less creepy than Craigslist and I find that people reliably pick things up about 75% of the time. I offer items up for grabs, people who want it respond, I choose who will get the item and I put it on the front porch for them to pick up. Easy peasy.

While I'm just getting around to talking about it now, I actually started doing this in earnest back in January and I began keeping a list of the things I've gotten rid of. It's actually pretty impressive looking.

I've shared this plan with people I know and gotten mixed reactions. Some have been incredibly positive and some have told me I might as well throw my money in a pit and light it on fire. I'm curious what reaction, if any, I'll get here.

My solution certainly isn't right for everyone, but it's right for me.

I'm nowhere near finished and I'm starting to feel lighter already.

Nesting: A Cautionary Tale

I'm at a strange point in my life. At a time when most people are trying to acquire more - more space, more storage, more gadgets, more things... I'm trying to have less.

My parents bought a house when I was six months old. The three of us lived in it together until 2004 when my Father passed away. My mother decided to sell the house, and my sentimentality kicked in. It's the only house I've ever lived in and I wasn't ready to let go.

Major Mistake the First: I could keep my childhood home if I wanted to. I could afford to buy it (sort of). I went for it.

The problem: This house was a fixer-upper in 1983, and it was still a fixer-upper in 2004 when I got my hands on it. My parents had renovated bit by bit over the years, but as any long-term homeowner knows, it's always something. I was the proud owner of a project house. Also, buying a house from my mother took the pressure off her to move things out quickly or completely. I ended up with a lot of "family things". Lots and lots of things. And then I started nesting, filling my house with fluff. I did what one generally does when one becomes a homeowner, making regular visits to Linens N' Things and creating wishlists on websites of yet more things to buy later.

Further, the house is big. Much too large for two people, two cats and a dog. Three bedrooms, two and a half baths, two-car garage, complete in-law quarters on an acre of property big. Seriously. For two people who aren't very domestically inclined.

Most people say, "That's great! You'll have room for a family!"

Except that we aren't really ready to start a family yet. Because we can't afford it. Because we live in this house.

What I'm learning is that this "standard plan" for what you're supposed to do when you become an adult - buy a car, buy a house, buy lots of crap to fill your house, start a family, buy a bigger house and car to fit your new family, buy more stuff to fill your bigger house...

Guys, this plan sucks.

So I'm not going to do it anymore. And you don't have to, either, if you don't want to. Change of plans!

I'm setting a goal. My plan is to have 50% less possessions and move into a smaller dwelling. It remains to be seen whether that will be a tiny freestanding home, apartment or townhouse, but the important part is that it be appropriately sized to my lifestyle and level of commitment to household maintenance, which at this point my friends, is very low.

A Thought for this Morning

"One Basset-eyed middle-aged man sat on a park bench watching me totally intent on my task, then said, as I walked away, “I wish I could do that.” I turned around: “You can, dude. You’re an adult. You can do things that make you happy.”

~ Not That Kind of Girl on trying to quit smoking by blowing bubbles.