Genevieve's Journeys

Humph.
My plan to clear at least a shelf's worth of space of purge-able books was not successful. At least, none have made it out the door yet.

They are morphing from 'books on my shelf for me' to 'books kept for future gifts for friends' and 'things I must pass on to specific friends'. Only a very small pile made it to the charity-shop heap.

I'm not aided by Robert, who keeps sneaking books out of the discard pile ('It's only a little book....') - as I didn't tackle his books, only the ones I could confidently identify as my own, the teetering pile of SF and paperbacks on top of the shelves remains untouched.

We're somewhat jinxed by his friend M. unloading his unwanted treasures on us periodically, particularly just before a recent move, which gifted us with the definitive 'How to read Egyptian hieroglyphs' among other gems.

I'm not really arguing that they're not interesting - they're all interesting, that's why I bought the danged things in the first place. But if I've carried a book from an apartment in Ottawa 15 years ago, through 3 moves in that city, and 4 moves in England, and *still* haven't read it, then it doesn't matter how good the pictures, it's time to let it go.

Sigh. I feel very ruthless right now. It's when the book is in hand that it's hard to part with.

Some pleasant parts of my recent trip to Canada:

- appreciating brilliantly clear, crisp, sometimes more-than-just-crisp cold weather. Felt like March ought to - with promise of spring, but winter not quite given up yet.
- driving a normal car, and not having to constantly think about which side I can pass on.
- eating lots of fresh fruit and veg - it's harder to find the same good quality of F&V in the UK, even in nice neighbourhoods
- visiting with Godwin Hrothmundsson, a friend from Greyfells, where I joined the Society.
He now lives in Toronto, not far from my parents, and is now owned by a lovely playful cat named Aoife.
He's taken up both birdwatching and photography of late.
- getting caught up with some archery-related friends, who I haven't seen in years. For the past couple of visits, I've thought 'geez, I really should call C.' and then promptly forgot about it. This time I actually called her, and she in turn found J., so we could go out for dinner together. They both look happy - happier than when we were all involved in competitive archery. That's not the fault of the archery, more the fault of our individual lives at the time.
- catching up with a high-school friend, Alan, who works at Sanctuary in Toronto.
It's a fairly traditional street mission, but with a minimum of guilt and preaching. He's about the only evangelical I'm still in touch with from highschool.
- finally meeting lanifer  and L. and dining with them and larmer . We had a lovely dinner in a sports bar, of all places, opposite the ROM. This part of Toronto always reminds me of dropping in on Eoforwic meetings, and of Guy Gavriel Kay's Fionovar tapestry, which starts not too far away on the UofT campus.
These visits were very nourishing while I was in TO.
I also managed to speak with my former roommate C, and my friend Enid, both wise and thoughtful ladies. Sarra managed to call between flights as she and her family were in transit, which I really appreciated.
It was wonderful to hear all their voices. Makes me wonder why I don't call more often.

Having come home I've decided:
- I want my own space, ie. eventually want a house. I don't know how realistic it is to hope to buy w/in the M25, but if I do get fulltime perm employment, I'll start a saving plan towards a downpayment.
- I want to declutter, and stay on top of it. This means fighting clutter more regularly, not just periodic, pre-move clearouts that are so hard and so exhausting. It means making new habits to deal with it.
Seeing the consequences of decades of just Building Another Shelf and Storing it in the Garage at my parents' home has told me how I don't want to live.
At Easter, the example of my family home was still vividly with me. It drove me to clear the lounge of the worst of the clutter. While Robert could probably think of more restful ways to spend a holiday afternoon, he willingly sorted and cleared and cleaned; we cleared half of one large bookcase, and most of a small bookcase of assorted Stuff. We hope to stash the small ugly bookcase elsewhere after the Blessed Visitation of the Plumber (now delayed another month, but that's another whinge).
I even pruned the library, as did Robert - anathema, I know.
Books are the hardest to let go of for me, especially reference books. But if I haven't read them since I bought them, and I don't have a plan to read them, then they're not doing me any good.
(It's easy to say that, of course - right now they're stacked in the Going to Oxfam space on the stairs, so they haven't actually made it out of the house...)

I   hate doing dishes - always have.
I don't have a dishwasher - never have.
I really feel hard done by when I have to do dishes more than once a day, or when I have to stop washing, dry a rack full of dishes, and then keep going.

So Robert and I are experimenting with having just two of everything - enough for us - and putting the rest of the dishes in storage.
Two plates, bowls, pasta dishes, mugs, beer glasses, wine glasses, etc. etc.

We haven't limited ourselves to only two sets of cutlery, but we have halved the cutlery supply and put the rest away.

Results:
- piles of dishes no longer multiply by the sink
- dishwashing takes only minutes

The storage area is simply under the counter - they're not so far away that it's pesky to haul out extra mugs or glasses for guests, but just 'out of sight, out of mind'.

This approach wouldn't work for everyone. 
But for us, when neither of us take great joy from housework, it seems to be lowering the annoyance factor of dishwashing, and the hard-done-by feeling of facing a hill of dishes.

purple_peril has a knack for inspiring others!  She's decluttering, and is bravely talking about it too.