Organizing

The organizing process in detail

Closet of Dreams

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The last time I published a blog, prior to the Sunday post, was in September of 2011.

I was a different person in a different place. I was single. I had a fantastic apartment. It was a one bedroom with wood floors and windows on three sides and one shared wall. It was ideal. It was at the back of the complex above the garages, with no one to complain about dancing feet or dropping shoes.

I had a slimmer of an ocean view, the Long Beach Harbor. I loved it there. I watched four sets of neighbors move in, and three of the four get pregnant. I was waiting for the last couple to get babied but they never did by the time I moved out.

A year later, September 2012, I was moving out. I was leaving my beloved Long Beach. I had met someone in the most unlikely way, via a game of words on our iPhones. My life was changing again.

As I watched the movers pack up all my precious things, I could not believe how MANY so-called precious things I had. When I saw the truck pull up that would hold all the boxes with all the stuff, I could not imagine that my ‘stuff’ would FILL that truck. But all my stuff reached the end of this big trailer with room enough for the door to slide down. I was embarrassed How does one person have boxes of things she cannot begin to count?

When the truck arrived at my new place in Santa Barbara, the second bedroom was filled floor to ceiling with boxes. I didn’t know how to process all of it. What was it? Where did it come from? How did I manage to keep it for so long? Was I crazy?

I moved in September. Those boxes stayed in that room for six months. My boyfriend move in that January. I moved the boxes to a storage unit. Six months later, I moved them out of the storage unit back home and rifled through everything.

Somehow I have to figure out how I did that.

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Spring and Clear

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It’s March 31, 2019. I have been sick for six days now. Five days I’ve been home, stir crazy, eating the same food, seeing the same view. Thursday and Friday were the hardest. I couldn’t breathe thru my nose, my body sore from coughing, and challenged to sleep. Saturday was better. I slept a lot. I did manage to finish the Erin and Ben Napier book, “Make Something Good Today”.

Inspired to paint, sketch, knock out walls, I did just that! In my bed, with my eyes heavy and trying to stay open, I imagined our little apartment with walls knocked out, shelves put up and less furniture. It was dreamy. I organized my closet, pulling out everything and really giving a thought to why I keep things. I know what I’ll get rid of now that I have thought it thru.

From our bed, I can see my patio, with over grown plants, loose leaves, and peanut shells littering the pots. Mark had left to the gym and to do some work. I would have a least two hours to myself. A little sweeping, a little clipping and I could be done in an hour.

The morning was bright and cool. No clouds. Lots of crows and seagulls chatting, other birds singing. The patio was better than expected. One of our umbrellas was tipping to one side, not balanced in the base. I had switch it to another base. I have four umbrella bases and three umbrellas for a reason I cannot remember. The ivy from next door was making its way onto our fence, but not in a fierce scary way. Peanut shells were few. My own plants were the ones that needed loving care. My geraniums were starting to bloom crawling their way out of the pots. My calla lily had one brown bloom, which I trimmed off with the other brown leaves. Then I sat to rest.

I got up again to move and shift pots in better sun catching positions. Swept a quarter of the patio and then sat to rest. It was so quiet, even with the bird chatter. I swept the next quarter, re-hung the extension cord that Mark uses to charge his laptop, cell phone, IPad and whatever else he may use when he’s writing. I swept one more quarter and then sat to rest.

The last thing was to stack pots and saucers, covering the loose soil I had in one pot so a wandering cat would not find it. I have an old folding teak table that I use to repot my plants. It has spaces so when I plant, the loose soil falls into the paint pail I have below. It’s the perfect size and height and it has worn beautifully.

I hosed down the patio, washing off whatever loose soil and leaves may still be hiding. In California, not always a good practice to wash down your patio. That’s why I sweep, so I only use enough water to wash the loose bits. No use to sit now, as I rinsed off the chairs and table. With the hose put away, and the light shimmering off the wet pavement, everything felt so fresh. It was time for a nap.

My potting table is on the left under the window. It was a dining table until I found it served my plants better.

That’s a crazy orchid that blooms little purple flowers in the pot that looks so full it will burst!

I moved these guys around to share some sun peeking between the umbrellas.

The truth about unopened drawers

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The truth about unopened drawers? I think I know what is in them. I think I know what I’ve hidden in the deep corners of those dusty drawers. All those inconspicuous things muddled together in the dark with an unknown purpose.

The drawers are built-ins. They are snug within a small space between the bathroom and the bedroom. I pass them everyday knowing they are overflowing with stuff. I won’t even open them for fear the stuff would just flood the small space and smother me. I get that feeling every time I pass those drawers.

I spent three hours last Sunday afternoon clearing out two of the four drawers.  The top, smaller drawer, organized in narrow baskets of hair bands, hair clips and make-up. The second drawer is empty in case I have a house guest. My goal was to clear out the two bottom drawers to give myself the space I needed to store my work out clothes. I hired a personal trainer two weeks ago. On the first day of our workout I could not find my clean work out clothes. Having had nowhere to put them, I balanced them on the lid of the clothes hamper. I told myself I would clear out the scary drawers.

I emptied the drawers completely. Struggling with arms full, I unceremoniously dropped the bundle of many colors on the floor in the living room. Once I had wiped down the inside of each drawer, I stared down into them. They were open like baby bird’s mouths waiting for a feeding. I felt like the mother being careful about what I would put into those empty bellies.

In the living room the pile was lifeless. I began to sort. T-shirts to donate. T-shirts to recycle. Socks with no mates. Oh, another sports bra! Who knew? I purchased a new one that very morning thinking I did not have a third one. Now I had four. I discovered I had six pairs of socks among the uncoupled, worn ones.  A small victory within the pile. I recycled all those lonely socks with no partner.  After I decided which things I would keep, I folded everything. I carried them ever so gently and laid them into the third drawer. So beautiful. I placed the socks in the middle row that formed between work out leggings and work out bras. I could only stare amazed.

The fourth drawer was ready to fill. Assorted scarves overflowed on the floor. I sorted them by color, then fabrication. I have more than I need in red and black. I have beige, brown and multi-colored ones too. Some are hand-crocheted. Some are wool.  And several are sheer, elegant, silky scarves like the ones they might wear on “Mad Men”. I kept the colors that were instinctively my favorites. I am all about color. Color is what I see first, so I let that instinct guide me. After I decided what to keep I folded everything. I carried them ever so gently and laid them in the fourth drawer. Keeping things organized is often about repetition. I put the scarves in the lowest drawer specifically because I will use them far less than my work out clothes.

I am happy.  I feel like I can breathe. I have a place for my work out clothes that are now very much a priority. I have given them due diligence by creating a space for them to live. And here’s the truth, I have created a better place for me to live.