Hintonburg Elf

When I chose this apartment in the summer 2011, my intentions were to set up a home office in the corridor. There’s a small window back there, and the area is wide enough to work freely. As it turns out, I do most of my writing from a chair with a view of Ottawa’s Gladstone Avenue from my front window.

When I first moved in, I placed a small desk beside the back window, and have since let a few things loosely accumulate there. I went into the space yesterday to tidy it up a little, with the intent of making it more functional.

Then I stopped. It’s cold back there. I really like writing from the comfy chair by the front window. I am writing from the comfy chair by the front window. How exactly is it going to get more functional than that?

I will rethink my plans for the space in the corridor.

I will tackle the project on a warmer day.

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Want to keep things out of the landfill?

Your child’s school may be trying to make it easier for you. Tis the season.

Do you lay awake at night thinking about how much garbage was generated in the production alone of a brand new item? If not, it’s never too late to start.

Is your first reaction to request for funds for the school second-hand sale a visceral one? (Oh no! More stuff underfoot!)

I challenge you to reconsider your position. (Oh yay! Opportunity to upcycle!)

The sale presents an opportunity for your children to learn a few lessons you may have missed in school. Donate your gently-used items to the sale. Encourage the children to shop at it.

Free up the funds and prepare a list of people for whom they’re to buy. Sleep better.

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As it turned out, I required supervision to open the case of the thing, fearing my childhood would be released in the opening. Earlier today, I put the tenor sax in my car and drove over to St John’s music for an opinion. We opened it together. What came out of the case was a 1920s Buescher True Tone tenor sax. This is a stunningly beautiful instrument, and for a moment there, it hypnotized both me and the person who was helping me. When fixed, it can be played and played well.

The person I spoke with went off to consult with the resident woodwind technician. He gave me a few ideas on next steps: do no repair at all and privately sell it to someone who could fix it; partially repair it for $500 and then sell it; or fully restore and repair for $700. The estimated value of the instrument: $1500. It will take some time to find the right buyer. It took me twenty years to take it out of the case.

I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I called my mom from the store parking lot. The conversation with her was actually pretty interesting. I told her it woke me up, and that I think it wants to be played again. She last played it shortly before she fell ill in her teens. These were not happy memories for her, it was a long recovery, and she gave me full permission to do whatever I wanted to do with the instrument.

She also pointed out that my sister was quite ill for an extended period in her teens, as was I… but, but, but… I was well out of high school and into second year university by then. My sister was still in high school though. We both had a good laugh realizing that the instrument landed in my care because both my mother and my sister associate it with an unpleasant period in their lives. Neither one of them had been pining for it.

She told me that my grandmother paid $90 for the instrument in the 1950s.

I decided to authorize full repair of the instrument. It’s estimated to take three to four weeks.

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This week, I’ve been reading What’s Mine Is Yours: The Rise of Collaborative Consumption by Rachel Botsman and Roo Rogers. I borrowed it from the Ottawa Public Library. The book is a sheer delight in the examples alone, and I am now dabbling in some of the communities mentioned within. I digress, but just a little.

I woke up this morning thinking about the tenor saxophone in my closet. It belonged to mother, and she certainly was not its first owner. She played it in her high school band in the late 1950s. I learned this fact only after I decided to take up the tenor sax myself in my high school band, and while my main instrument was one borrowed from the school, she provided me with her own (and had it repaired) for use at home. The tenor sax in its case is not one of life’s lighter instruments.

My high school experience was very positive. I have fond memories of that time. My family has since left the area, and with the distance involved now, it’s a rare occasion that finds me back in that town. The lessons I learned there are mine to keep.

This instrument has travelled with me through approximately twenty residence changes. (I was a co-op student; I’ve moved only twice in the last fifteen years.) However, I have not played it since 1983, when I had orthodontic work redone. My sister played it for a few years in the mid-eighties in her high school, but it came back to me. I worry about it every move, and it’s the first thing that always comes to mind in the “what would a burglar take” category.

I suspect my youngest child has an ear for it, but she is only 6 right now. If my math is done correctly, she’s well on track to join a high school band in the 2020s. (That just blew my mind.) By then, the instrument will be into its 80s, I think. Would I entrust her with it? I am not sure.

A burglar can’t take the memories of my high school band away, or my mother, or my sister, or for that matter, my child. We have other instruments in the house that do get routinely played: a keyboard, a guitar, and a flute.

We’re also enjoying a weekend drum circle at St. John the Evangelist. The organizer shares his instruments and offers instruction for free.

My tenor saxophone lived in a top shelf in a basement storage room at my last house. I am working up the nerve to open the case today. It is useful. It is beautiful. I am motivated to try and find a new home for it. By this time next week or next month, someone could be playing it. There’s comfort (and joy) in that.

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Gift cards piling up? Well, mine do. Especially for stores I never frequent. They haunt me while I sleep, and the guilt associated with not having used them yet can just be unbearable.

This morning I set out to do something about that.

Most of them come from my sister, and I fully suspect she knows I never use them. She’s never seen any evidence of the merchandise. More are coming soon. I just know it.

My first stop was Lululemon. I think I’ve that card for at least two years, and maybe three. I walked into the store, told them I’d had it for a while, and asked what my options were. First, they checked the balance on the card: $100. Hmmm. Then I asked again what my options were. I was offered a tour of the store by the greeter. She missed the part where I explained I had the card for a few years, and did not shop there. I asked if I could donate it. I mentioned that my preference in clothing shopping was not to buy things brand new. She looked at me wide-eyed in disbelief, but accepted the card anyway, with a promise that she’d give it to somebody.

Starbucks handled it much better. I’ll admit I have used the card once since receiving it for my birthday in August. The balance was down to $95 when I walked into the store today. I did the math that I’d need to fully consume it: 20 visits at $5 per visit every 3 months is really a lot of months. I asked for my options. The person at the cash consulted with another. A third person joined in the conversation to suggest that I buy stuff. I explained that I was in no current need for more stuff. The final suggestion really made my day: the second person suggested we could put the balance on the cash and make the days of the next patrons who came into the shop, paying their bills for them, until the balance was fully consumed. Brilliant. I agreed, and left the shop smiling.

Unused Gift Card 3 was for the Bay / Zellers. I stopped at Zellers, and have decided to keep the card for now. I did make a plan to use it. I’ll be working on a Christmas Hamper for Saint Vincent de Paul, as well as a stocking for the Smiles for Seniors project. I’ll use the card at Zellers to acquire consumables for both projects.

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These are my favourites:

1. Give something to someone who really needs it: a meal to the homeless, clean water to the thirsty, Christmas dinner to a family who’s had a rough year.
2. Digital photographs.
3. The gift of time. Offer to babysit; perhaps include tickets to a special event.
4. Handmade crafts that have already been created, by you or your children. Special pieces of artwork piling up? Opportunity knocks for you to recycle them.
5. Put something heartfelt in writing: a poem, a thank you, a story, a note.
6. Pick up the phone, and offer a word of encouragement.
7. Encourage self care, with a service not a product offering.
8. Make soup or freeze a casserole.

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Ask yourself:

How is this clutter getting in here? This is the most important question of all. Are you buying things you don’t need? Is someone giving you things you don’t want or need? Do they remind you of someone who passed through your life and moved on? Are you saving them in case you might need them later? When’s later? Your goal is to stop as much of it as you can from getting in the door!

A decluttered space is a functional space. When you can easily find what you’re looking for, you’ll also find you’re purchasing much less.

A decluttered space is an enjoyable space. It’s a place you can safely relax and comfortably entertain in.

A decluttered space is a rejuvenated space. Clearing physical clutter and finding new homes with a use for these objects will help you make peace with your past and free you up emotionally to embrace the present.

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While I’ve been in business a number of years, the decluttering service is a relatively new offering. I’ve been socializing it with friends and family for a while. Not a day has gone by that one person or another has drawn my attention to the TV show Hoarders.

It’s not one I’ve been following, but the name really tells me all I needed to know. (Not having a TV and all has really cut back on my TV watching.) Last night it got unusually quiet here for a while: I looked up the program online and watched a few episodes through my laptop while the children were sleeping.

If you’ve ever been called a hoarder and wondered why, it’s worth a look. The show features extreme cases, with teams of people to encourage habit changes and support decision making.

If you seen yourself in this program, I hope that you also see the love that surrounds each participant. Of all the things I saw in my late-night viewing spree, it struck me the hardest of all.

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That’s called stress.

If it’s a rarely used item that’s one thing, but if it’s something you need every day, that’s unsettling to the core. Lost your keys? The cheese grater? The can opener? Scissors and tape?

You know you own scissors, and you suspect you have more than one pair lying around. But just exactly where did they go? They did not grow legs and leave the house of their own free will. That’s just crazy. So where are they now?

What are you looking for, and why can’t you find it? Maybe, just maybe, you have too much stuff. Empty space has as much a purpose as anything else in your home. It’s low maintenance, calming, and it’s free.

Top shelves, bottom drawers, and backs of closets are for rarely used items. That first place you check when you’re looking is the space you’re going to clean up right now. Scissors go back in the top drawer that is closest to the kitchen sink. Tape goes in the drawer immediately below… Hidden behind the tin foil if necessary.

Clutter = postponed decisions. What exactly are you waiting for? The time is now. Do it today.

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This site needs work. I know. It’s new.

I like stories and they’re what’s going to populate this little piece of cyberspace. Happy, joyful stories. That’s where you come in.

Decluttering is a process and it starts with you. You can do this. I know you can.

Why not bring your stress down just a little with some gentle space clearing exercises… before the holidays come around and start to bring it back up?

Fritter those in-between golden moments on a bubble bath or maybe just use up some of that foot care lotion you’ve been quietly hoarding. Go and count the bottles now, then throw some out or call me.

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