Why is it so hard to dig out of the packrat den?

"You're a packrat," one of my sons told me recently, and I looked at him in disbelief. When we relocated, a few years ago, from a huge house in the country, in Kentucky, to an apartment, in Baltimore, I'm the one who - after the initial yard sale - used Craigslist and Freecycle to whittle our stuff down, again and again. I'm the one who has sold and given away dozens (perhaps hundreds?) of books.

But I looked around our apartment, and I thought about what he said, and I realized he's right. My husband and I are both packrats, just in different areas of life and perhaps for both some different reasons, as well as some intersecting reasons.

I'm slowly working toward minimalism - toward reducing "stuff" - without giving up the second two parts of "reduce, reuse, recycle". But in the meantime, I've been exploring 'how we got this way'. So, this morning I made a list (of course). It's a list of what we learned, mostly from our parents, who - just for the record - grew up during the Depression. Not all of these items apply to us...although many of them apply to one or the other of us...but I've gotten them all from observing ourselves, our parents, and our siblings.

Please do not take these and run with them, so to speak. Many of them are better "re-thought" entirely, and others at least modified. Most of them bog us down in life. But until we see where we're coming from, I figure it might be harder to figure out where we're going.

Old Philosophies about “Stuff”:

1.       If you spent good money for it, or it was a gift, so someone else spent good money for it, you should keep it.

2.       If it is broken, you should keep it until you can find a way to fix it.

3.       If it is worn out, you should give it to Goodwill.

4.       But if you can remake it, or you might be able to re-use it in another way some day, you should keep it for when you have time to do that.

5.       You should keep old things, like holey socks, because you might need them in an emergency or in an economic downturn.

6.       You should save your college textbooks, other books, your childhood toys & games, and clothing that no longer fits you, for your children and your grandchildren to use some day.

7.       If you have items that are no longer in general use, for example, vinyl records, you should keep them until you can have them converted or until you can buy the equipment to convert them yourself, or better yet, buy the re-manufactured retro equipment to play them on.

8.       If an item – large or small – has sentimental value, you should keep it.

9.       If you have items or equipment from a former hobby, or from a former lifestyle (for example, you now live in an apartment but have yard tools from a house with a yard), you should keep them, in case you, once again, pursue that hobby or, once again, live in a house with a yard.

10.   If you have family or friends visiting you, and they need something, you should have it at hand for them, be it a notebook, jacket, or an extra car to drive. 

I kid you not (as we used to say). My Dad always had two cars, even though he was single in later years. And when we were at my Dad's house after his stroke, my brother-in-law and I were able to find everything we needed - some parts in the garage, some parts in the basement - to put together a coffee maker, even though my Dad had made nothing but instant coffee for decades. At that point he didn't understand that we were at his house making coffee, but I'm sure he would have been pleased.

I'm open to your comments and ideas...but please remember that, although I don't recommend wasting resources, neither do I recommend the above philosophies.

And now, back to my de-cluttering. 

P.S. I intend to write a follow-up (or two or ten) about some of these philosophies in particular.
Here is the first one: De-cluttering: What about the old philosophies? -  #1

De-cluttering, and Recycling...Jeans

I've always been back and forth on this one. Sometimes I save old jeans to cut into squares and make patchwork. And yes, I do, sometimes, actually make things from them. I once made an apron for my young son from old denim patches, and, another time, I made a light throw, a little blanket you can drape over your lap while reading or watching TV. 

I often look at recycling ideas in books and blogs. For example, this website,Going Green with Jeans, has lots of different ideas for using old jeans to make new purses, pillows, aprons, and more. 

However, I get busy with my other hobbies: reading and writing, as well as with school and caring for my family. So I usually spend more time exploring ideas than actually pursuing projects. And - as one son pointed out - finding a good home for each item slows down my de-cluttering process. Actually, he said I'm a packrat. Who me?  But I just hate to see things go to waste.

So, I was excited to discover that there's another way to recycle worn jeans, too. There's an organization that takes old jeans and recycles them into cotton insulation for homes. A portion of the insulation they make is donated to community organizations, such as Habitat for Humanity. You can watch a video about a recent recycling effort of Blue Jeans Go Green at National Geographic for Kids, here. Yes, I know it says "for kids", but it's fascinating, all the same. 

And if you don't mind paying the postage, you can mail your old jeans to this company. You can find a shipping label here. 

Or, if you don't want to pay postage they say that, seasonally, various retailers collect jeans for recycling, and you can find a list of retailers through their FAQ page and check with the retailers that are in your area. 

In the interest of disclosure, from what I can see, it's my understanding that this organization makes insulation for sale, and donates a portion. In other words, it's not purely a charitable donation. But, this is the case with other recycled items, as well. The idea is to keep from filling our landfills and to reuse our resources. 

Just wanted to share this with you, in case any of it is helpful to anyone or as interesting to you as it was to me.  

What I Learned from Taking my College Math Final

"What if my car breaks down on the way?" I asked my son - not that I was looking for an answer, just that I wanted to share my anxiety with someone - as I headed out the door to take my final exam for my math class. I had studied hard for over a week; but it seemed there was always an interruption in study, or something more important to attend to, just as there had been all semester. Too many of those pesky algebra concepts seemed to remain shrouded in mystery.

Walking down the stairs from our apartment, I stepped on something, turned my ankle, and with relief, regained my balance. A drink bottle had fallen from the outside pocket of my backpack, something that had never happened before.

On the road, I got sick. I pulled off the beltway at the first opportunity and found a Burger King. After a break and getting a strawberry milkshake (seemed to be just the ticket), I went back on my way, grateful I had allowed extra time. 

Finally, I got to the familiar classroom, where we all exchanged notes about our concerns; how many correct answers we would need to pass the exam; and what kinds of problems were on the test (one of the students had a friend who had taken it that morning).

As it got close to test time, our teacher had still not shown up, which was not like him; he was usually in the classroom before I arrived. Finally, another young man walked in, whom we had never seen before. He told us in a no-nonsense manner that our teacher had a scheduling conflict and here are the rules. 

Just then, I recognized someone walking down the hallway. She glanced in, recognized me, and her face lighted up with a big smile. My very positive, encouraging math teacher from last semester just "happened" to come by just when I needed her. She always believed I could do it (and I did, in her class), and she also had a way of making me feel calm. So here I was now, a little more confident, a little calmer, as I began the test.

I wish I could tell you I passed the test. But I won't know that until the middle of next week. 

***

What I do know is that I've had a personal glimpse into the lives of some of our young people as they try to balance everything. Many of those who are traditional students (meaning right out of high school) might not have as many responsibilities as some of their non-traditional-student counterparts, but they still have "life" happening all around them and to them; sometimes transportation issues; sometimes part-time jobs; and often four or five classes to juggle. 

I know the great variety of challenges not only from observing my own six kids but also - now - from my fellow students. There is the young woman who has to take a taxi to get to a bus stop to get to school, and the lady who is one math class away from getting her associate's degree in hospitality, taking the math class I was taking for her third time...not knowing what provision, if any, there is, if she doesn't pass the third time around.

So am I suggesting we feel sorry for our college students? No, just that we respect them, and appreciate what they are going through. And if they start but don't finish, that we respect them for getting as far as they did and making the choices they think they must for their lives.

And there is one more thing all this brings to mind. When someone says college isn't for everyone, we might want to be sure we aren't thinking that some aren't smart enough. We all have different intelligences (Howard Gardner), and some of those various intelligences may have less to do with college than others.  Or someone may be academically intellectual in some areas but not in other areas. 

With so many recent college graduates today looking in vain for work in their field, I think it's time to applaud their efforts and also those of all our young people, whether they pursue university, community college, technical schools, or alternative plans. May we recognize both the efforts of our students and the value of each of our young people, whatever way they choose to pursue their lives.

And, like my teacher, whose stopping by to smile at me calmed me and gave me the confidence to give that exam my best shot, may we offer our young people the encouragement of our respectful, loving presence.

A Tale of Two Coats

After my sister Chris died, two years ago, I found a coat hanging over her dining room chair, a coat I remembered her wearing. Seeing it and touching it made me feel close to her, so I asked her husband if I could have it, even though I could see that one of the heavy-duty snaps was missing from one of the cuffs.

"Maybe I can repair it," I thought. When I got home, I took it to a tailor, but they said there was nothing they could do. I still thought I could somehow repair it but - between the emotional and time-consuming process of taking over the guardianship of my father and then dealing with the death of my son six weeks after my sister passed - I forgot about fixing the coat, until my sister's October birthday this year when I brought it out and thought about it again.  

Back to the tailor I went with a different request.

"Would you please remove all the snaps from the cuffs?" I asked. I quickly reassured them that I realized this would leave holes and I was prepared to deal with that. Hesitantly they agreed.

Tonight, I finished the project, after several weeks of repairing the holes, sewing on new buttons, and securely sewing Velcro where the inside snaps had been. I had to switch from regular thread to carpet thread and I bent my heavy-duty needle, but it's done! (The picture, above, was taken before I started on the Velcro.)  

While I worked on this project, I fondly recalled a long-forgotten memory from my young teen years.  My "big sister" replaced her reversible ski jacket. She had always worn it showing the white with red flowers and that side had now faded. I loved that side because it was "her", but I also loved the red side that she always kept on the inside. And now that she didn't want the coat anymore, I was free to take it if I wanted to. 

There was just one problem. While the red side was not faded, the seams on that side were completely unraveled. How could I sew them up, without a major overhaul, since - being a reversible coat - the inside and outside were completely sewn together at the bottom?

"Aha!" I had an idea. I carefully ripped open the pockets with a seam ripper tool. Then I slowly, gently pulled the fabric from one side through that pocket in order to sew the seam back up, first one side, and then the other. Then I whip-stitched the pockets back up so they would be usable. 

Since I was wearing the reverse side, I felt like I had a brand-new jacket, and yet I felt like I was wearing my sister's coat, too. I wore that jacket for many more years, even into my young adulthood. 

I expect I will wear this coat for many years also, as it warms me on the coldest days, and brings back memories of my sister, too.