Preparing for an Uncertain Future

No, I’m not suggesting that we should all become preppers. It’s a good idea to be prepared for whatever kind of natural disaster your area is prone to, but I don’t think it pays to mortgage your present for a merely possible future.

I have, however, been preparing for a change this past month. At the beginning of February it seemed distinctly possible that by the time the month was out we would have moved to a house half the size of the one we currently live in. And while that didn’t happen, I still needed to prepare in case it did.

Bernkastel BW 1
Cue a major pruning. So major, in fact, that I gave up the idea of writing for the month (apart from keeping up with the blog, obviously) and didn’t bother with trying to keep a purge list, because it would have taken too long. The downside of that is that I have trouble remembering everything that has left our house (a sure sign that we had too much stuff).

There was a whole boxful of kitchen things, including the sole survivor of my first ever set of wineglasses (the other three leapt to a glittering end during the first Canterbury earthquake); there were more books, some cassette tapes and CDs, a variety of clothing (some so worn that it had to be binned), and half a recycling bin’s worth of stuff I’d been keeping in my desk. Also a whole bunch of what might be described as general stuff.

I’ve also been working on my stash of unfinished projects – important for peace of mind, freed-up space, and maintaining my Finishing-Person reputation. The crazy quilt was finished last year, it is true, but that still left me with the rose quilt (a project even older than the crazy quilt, if my memory serves me correctly at this distance), a pair of half-knitted gloves, a block quilt to be assembled, a cardigan to be knitted from recycled wool, and a large backlog of mending.

StateLibQld 1 92432 Interior view of a woman mending clothes, ca. 1910
During February I made progress on the rose quilt, finished the gloves, and did most of the mending – there’s just one more waistband to be done and it’ll be finished. I am pleased with my progress, but also horrified at how much work there still is to be done. The Grand Purge is now mostly finished, and I’m back to writing (or rather rewriting) in March, but chaos, as ever, still lurks on the horizon.

Chaos, you ask? In a post-purge household? Well, yes. While we didn’t end up moving into the half-the-size house, we may find ourselves three weeks from a move at any time. This is exciting, but also somewhat stressful, particularly since we have no idea what size house we’ll end up moving to, and therefore whether or not a further Grand Purge will be required to fit. Because as much as we’ve got rid of, there’s always more that could be pared away. Like the rest of life, our simplicity is a work in progress – but the progress is feeling good.

Going Halves

Half a house, Union Beach, NJ
Here’s an interesting thought exercise: Look around at the space you live in. If you had to fit yourself and all your belongings into a space half as big, what would you keep and what would you let go?

Getting Back on the Horse

They (whoever “they” are) say you should always get back on the horse that threw you, so as to stymie any potential budding hippophobia. On the same principle, pilots who were shot down during the Battle of Britain were (if still in working order) sent back up at the next opportunity, presumably to forestall any phobia of heavily-armed homicidal airborne Nazis (a reasonable fear, under the circumstances, but one which for some reason does not appear to have an official name).

Royal Air Force Fighter Command, 1939-1945. CH1670

Since April last year, I’ve been keeping a rough record of what I managed to declutter, purge or prune from this household, and posting it on this blog. This is the horse, and late last year, it threw me. In November and December, I managed to purge about four things. Admittedly, one was a completed ten-year sewing project, but then, one was just something I found abandoned in the garden, so hardly counts as household decluttering.

In January, I am happy to say, I did much better.

The list is as follows:
a whole heap of plastic containers (some recycled, some donated)
two cake boards
a box of old transfers which I never used
knitting needle tip protectors
a glass bauble, apparently designed to look like the severed head of Santa Claus (although this may have been unintentional)

Headless Santa Spotted in Manhattan

two hanks of tapestry wool (I don’t do tapestry)
a fancy flavoured salt I’ll never use because it has MSG in it
14 cassette tapes
eight CDs
five games
two jigsaw puzzles
two DVDs
three pens (ball-point, fountain and dip, respectively)
a bottle of ink for aforementioned dip pen
42 assorted books, which I am fairly confident would fill a metre of shelving

So be encouraged. Just because the horse threw you, doesn’t mean you can’t get back on. The horse might even behave itself beautifully. For a while, at least…

Bonnie-McCarroll-thrown-fro