Still Clearing Clutter

My bedroom has never had a coat of paint on it since the day this house was built 21 years ago. It still has the primer. My room has never been at the top of the list for care and attention. The kids and the rest of the house all took precedence and since I'm married to a pack rat, the master bedroom quickly became a storage area with a bed.
When a neighbor that I had been helping out passed away, I became the executor of her estate and had to clean out her house. Having no living immediate family and having been an avid preservationist of family history and collector of object d'art, I had a rough time figuring out how to best distribute her life. It was not easy. Shortly after I had finished clearing out and selling her house, my father became ill and passed away and 11 months later, my mother joined him, leaving my childhood home in need of clearing. Again, I had to figure out a way to part with someone lifetime of belongings. At that point, I determined that I did not want my children to have MOUNDS of things to go through. It is an overwhelming task. Besides, who really needs half the stuff they have in storage anyway? So for the past year I have been tackling each room in my house and doing some major editing of my stuff. A very wise person once said to me that we never really own anything, we just take care of it for a while.
The tricky part comes in when I'm willing to part with things that seem extraneous to me, but not to the pack rat I married. He loves to keep everything. In his defense, he seems to be truly working towards reducing. He gave our son a pair of steins yesterday. I know that was difficult for him. He's been collecting aviation items for YEARS and now he's come to the realization that his collection is really just Jr.'s safety deposit box for what will one day become Jr's collection! But I digress...
I had been living without living room furniture for a year when I finally bought a sofa and chair and moved the TV back into the living room. True the walls still have sample paints on them, but the general consensus is that it is much more comfortable. It will be the last room in the house to be completed, but since there is so much stuff here, it's like a gigantic puzzle piece to work in any one room at a time and to determine the logistics of where everything will go until that room is complete!
For the past week, I've been sorting and sifting in my room and I'm pleased to announce that I have finally cleared off the dresser, and unearthed a corner of the room from the massive amount of books we had collected. My ultimate goal is to rid my self of the old heavy furniture and paint the room. I'm not sure what kind of items I'll put back in my room, but I know it won't be nearly as heavy as what I had. I hate clutter and disorganization and would love to create a room where I can feel relaxed and serene.

Duh-ancing in My Kitchen

For YEARS we have used the kitchen as our personal dance floor. The kids and I have twirled in our socks as we baked holiday cookies, Frank and I have done a few twirls across the tile as well including dips (which thankfully, he never dropped me on). I probably dance in the kitchen the most. I crank the music, do the dishes and clean the counters and living room, the whole time swaying and bouncing in my happy music world. To say that I love dancing in my kitchen is an understatement.

Today, I was playing the album Risotto, by Fluke, a heavy beat dark electronica that's great to dance to for most of the album. I had just finished the dishes and decided to close my eyes and just go wherever the music took me. Once I get moving, I am an energetic dancer, lots of hip shaking and bouncing going on there :)!

Imagine my surprise, as I was grooving in my trippy zen state of dance, the shock of a loud CRRRAAASH bringing me back to the present. I opened my eyes to find shards of Pfaltzgraff pottery completely surrounding me. And I'm not kidding, I was standing in a little oasis of clean tile floor in my bare feet surrounded by an ocean of pottery bits which were the remains of a HUGE platter I had on display atop a shelf approximately 5 feet off the floor. Imagine the impact of this heavy platter as it fell 5 feet and exploded it's energy and various sized pieces of sharp earthenware flying everywhere. I found large chunks behind me (I was about 5 feet away from impact) and I found some on the other side of the kitchen island in the dining room. (a good 8 feet from impact)

My thoughts are twofold at this point. DA*#!! I broke the platter that I loved just enjoying myself, doesn't it just figure?? And, WOW! How in the WORLD did I avoid getting hit with anything and even more WOW... look at this little space all around my bare feet where there is NOT A SINGLE SPECK of anything. I've come to the conclusion that it was either my protective kitchen dance fairy who loves to laugh at me when I get moving and wants to make sure I can still amuse her, or it's the trippy zen state force field I had going while I was grooving. Or just sheer luck....but I don't think so.

Walking and Dust Bunnies

It sure is nice to be loved so well.

Thank you!

I just took a nice brisk walk one and a half times around my double block. Gotta start somewhere. I put on some bouncy music and stepped in time (I feel like I need a chimney sweep in hand when I say that) to the beat. Now I'm all sweaty and I FEEL GOOD! I think walking like that every day would be good. I'm certainly not going to post a photo of me in a bikini, the way a brave friend of mine did, but if I don't do something, then I have no one to blame but myself if I develop an awful disease or get too stiff to move. As it is, my 19 year old delights in telling everyone that I'm getting "so old" and "can't do anything anymore." He's referring to my recent trip with him to an amusement park where I only went on a few roller coasters with him. Better luck next time, Sean!! (Of course he forgets to mention how we cut the day short because of the fight that broke out in which one person picked up a large metal bar from a clothing shop and slammed it into another guys face and then all kinds of mayhem ensued with guys and girls all duking it out. After which, I humbly begged to be taken home because the behavior was more sickening then the rides were.)

Now for the real exercise, off to chase dust bunnies. I don't know how they accumulate so darn fast, but my house has ALWAYS been a dust magnet. I don't care how often I vacuum or dust or sweep, the next day it all looks as though I've just moved into a long abandoned house where dust and the bunnies have been living undisturbed for years.

BINGO!

I'm not quite sure why this is, but maybe I'll figure it out by the time I'm finished writing this.
Why am I the kingpin for activities?? Or am I imagining this?
My siblings, 2 sisters and 1 brother, have never been the close knit group my mother would have liked for us to be. In all fairness, we've helped each other out during times of crisis, but it seems like it has to be a tragedy to get us to act. For example, moving my sister out of her home during her divorce, or storing my brothers goods while he was divorcing. While my parents were alive and our children were young, the siblings would each have family parties and invite everyone. It was usually stiff. Our whole family is /was stiff. I don't think I can even remember seeing my Dad hug my Mom. My oldest sister and I had parties that would hopefully engage everyone- she with her hula deck parties and me with silly off the wall things like a 'President's' party. (ok, side note, one of my sons was born on President's day, so we had a birthday party with presidentially themed games - (pin the cherry on the tree (Washington), peanut race (Carter), suitcase race (Madison's flight from the White House) balloon race (Roosevelt- you don't want to know) and so on..) Everyone played but it never seemed as though anyone ever connected.
Now that my parents are gone, it's as if the pretense for getting together is gone as well and we don't seek each others company often, if at all. Most families bond after the death of loved ones, mine just blew apart. The only surviving sibling of my parents is my Aunt, and she has gone to great lengths to try and get us together, but I think that even though we may actually enjoy the event once we are there, we tend to look at a gathering as a responsibility instead of a fun thing to do, and thus do not want to have to plan to get together again. If you never plan, you never have to feel responsible.
What does this have to do with BINGO you might ask? I'm getting there.
I'm number 3 of the 4 siblings. During childhood I wasn't really part of the group. I got along best (only one on one) with my older sister, but she and my brother were a team in many things and the youngest sister was 4 years behind me and definitely the baby. Plus, my family thought I was too emotional ( I was probably pretty normal, just placed in a family of stoic Germans [Vee vill laugh for .2 seconds, zen ve vill cry for .1 Now vee are done vith emotions for zee rest of zee year]). So why then, has it been left to me to contact and/or organize any kind of get together our family has? Does this seem odd to any of you? Let's ask the one that no one really bonded with, or got along with, to call everyone in the family and invite them somewhere! Duh! Don't you think the sibling that everyone seemed to like should be the one to plan and call and put these kinds of things together?? When my Aunt tried to organize a family reunion over the summer, who was her contact for this side of the family? And when she mentioned how it would be nice to play Bingo together over the holidays, wink wink, nudge nudge, who had to consult the almighty calendar, make the phone calls and announce that THEY were going to play Bingo on Saturday night, would anyone like to attend?
I'm not really complaining, even tho it may look like it, I'm just kind of stymied by why this has come to pass? Ok, so I didn't figure it out and I'm just about done writing.. I guess this will be one of the great mysteries of my life.
With all that having been said, I'm going to play Bingo on Saturday night, anyone want to attend??

Christmas Fun

One of the best things about the holidays is that I always feel compelled to create at least one handmade something. And even though things get crazy and life becomes hectic, I'm not really satisfied with my Christmas unless I do this. Usually, it's the perfect way to have "forced play" which most people forgo when they are caught up in the day to day of work and holiday prep. Admittedly, I begin to dread some of the process... the "what will I do this year" part mostly, and then the "when will I find the time" part secondly. I will normally just decide that some quiet Christmas music and a few nights that are slightly later than usual will do the trick and soon I'm happily crafting away at whatever I've chosen to do. I used to bake like a madwoman, but then everyone started baking and it was just too much. The fun part about baking was that we would always try to find a new container that started with the letter B. Frank and I went through baskets, bowls, buckets, bags and barrels before we decided to alter our tactics. That's when I found polymer clay. I began making ornaments, nativities and jewelry and I was hooked. One year, I was working on holiday ornaments for my sisters while my daughter was at rehearsals for the Baltimore Opera Company's production of Hansel and Gretel and when the other mom's saw what I was doing, I found myself overwhelmed with orders for ornaments. I practically paid for Christmas gifts that year! I even had the lead performer (Theodora Henslowe) send her assistant down to order gingerbread men pins to commemorate her performance in the Opera. I was flattered! I've made other kinds of items, but my heart keeps bringing me back to polymer clay. I find it calming and stimulating all at the same time and I have to hope I won't ever lose my enthusiasm to create my little friends.

Dreaming of Daddy

I dreamed that I was in a city (I recently was in NYC) and I saw my father (who has passed on) standing up against a wall. We started talking and he told me that the Second Coming was going to be very soon, but that Jesus had to go check out the conditions at Stone Henge first. I mentioned to him how today was some important day in religious history and he told me "No, that day was yesterday." I said, "oh yeah, that's right." Then I heard a sound of trumpets and singing and the sound was not of a fixed origin but all around me. I saw my dad look up to the tall building across the street and when I looked up I saw a beige colored building bathed in yellow-gold sunlight (like a sunrise) and saw the shadow of an angel blowing a trumpet move across the top of the building. I looked back at Daddy and he smiled and then walked away from the building he was leaning on. Where he had been standing, were about 5 people huddled together to fit behind him. I then heard my daughter, Liberty, from down the hallway (because somehow I was in my house yet in this city) and she was talking to my son, Frank Jr., saying that it was just the Liberty Mutual Angel. (For those of you who can't place that, it's an insurance company and their logo is the Statue of Liberty, not an angel.) I woke up at this point and decided to catch the news (sometimes dreams like this have let me know what's going on in the world before I wake up) but the FIRST thing I saw was a religious ad on Fox TV channel 5 that talked about redemption and how to be redeemed.

Notification? Imagination? Holidays frying my little brain? Not sure about it, but it was nice to see my Dad, no matter what. I like the friendly chats we have in my dreams, goodness knows there weren't enough with him while he was alive.

Question

What good is pet ownership if they won't go outside in 26 degree weather and plug up the holiday light display for you?