In my house, "doin the nasty" has a whole different meaning.......

It is a peaceful Sunday.  We have had Chinese food, we are full, we are dozy, we are resting in various rooms.  All is right with our world.  We are happy.

Well, THEY are.  I too am full, basically happy HOWEVER, it is the day I must clean the refrigerator.  Everyone who knows me knows I would rather kiss a whirling lawn mower than clean my refrigerator, I would rather have a colonoscopy at work than clean the refrigerator, would almost rather have another child than clean the refrigerator, so I wait til the smell is all but overwhelming and then I clean it.  It is the only time no one comes near my kitchen when I am in it.  No one.

This is the time where we all find out just what that stench is.  Tonight, I found a half a box of thawed, molded, fish sticks, in the back.  Why they were ever put in the fridge and not the freezer, remains a mystery.  No one knows the answer to this.  Or will admit it.  I finally found the package of bacon I'd been missing since Lent began.  3 oranges that are brown and hard, 1 pomegranate (been in the way back since Christmas;  it is now almost May), a bag of carrots that are soft, 2, yes 2, quart jars of maraschino cherries, 2 cucumbers that are all liquid....I could go on and on.  The stench is unbelieveable.

And this is when I have an epiphany.  What hits me right between the lookers is the realization that I am throwing away more food today than many people have to eat for a month in places like the Sudan.  That makes me ashamed.  That makes me angry at myself for purchasing more than was necessary and being that wasteful.  We are a middle income family.  We are trying to be better stewards of what God has given us and here I am, tossing what could have fed us for well over two weeks, away.  How stupid is that?

The solution?  Well, I cleaned out the fridge, washed it down (again).  Then I took the jars, those whose expiration dates haven't come and gone, and made  a list of everything left.  Now I'm planning a weeks menu based on what I have.  We are going to do better.  Now that #2 son is done with night school, I will be cooking again.  I will strive to use up what is here before purchasing anything more.

Anyone have any ideas on how to use 2 quarts of maraschino cherries??

S.A.B.L.E. and what that means to me......

I learned a new word last year from a knitting/spinning blog that fits me to a tee  The word is "Sable".  It means:  "Stash Acquired Beyond Life Expectancy".  This, as I am seeing more and more clearly, defines me.

Everyone in life goes through stages.  For crafters or "Fiber Artisans" as I now prefer to be called, this is visually evident.  In my quilting/sewing stages, when my kids were young and homemade clothes were acceptable, and quilting was a natural outpouring of that period of my life, my collection of all things cotton became sizeable.  Because each piece of cotton brought back memories, it was hard to give the leftovers away.  Yes, I do have pictures of the kids running around in those homemade clothes (and why YES, they DID look great!) but I'm a tactile person.  I can't touch the fabric those pictures show.  I can however go to my cotton bin (who am I kidding?  Bin should always have an "S" at the end) and hunt through to find the leftover fabric.  See I was a visionary way back then.  I always bought 1 yard more than the pattern called for, so I'd have a leftover piece for "later".  Or "the addiction started here", take your pick.  This gave me an excuse to make a quilt with their clothes fabric.  Always thinking ahead. Since I preferred cotton for their clothes (wrinkles be damned), I have amassed a rather large stash.  Yes, I did make them quilts but they've put them away as they prefer comforters and our daughter prefers a color co-ordinated room that comes out of Target.

Next came my needle work period.  I received a computer software program to make counted cross stitch.  I already had the first two computer programs that Electric Quilt had made.  You design your quilt on the computer, then fill in the pieces with actual computer scanned fabric samples that you could then go to places like Joann's and purchase.  This guaranteed a successful quilt.  Now here is a computer program that allows you to use your DMC/Anchor floss to design your own samplers, stitchery projects.  Terrific!  I can so do this!  I now have the professional version of Hobbyware's Counted Cross Stitch Maker and a copy of the  PCSTITCH cross stitch software.  I collected all sizes/counts of Aida cloth, both packaged and by the yard, frames to hold the fabric, the necessary needles, at least 2 of every DMC (the floss I prefer) color they make), and enough kits (my "kitting" stage) to see me through to my next life.

Then knitting.  Now Spinning and weaving.  I have amassed a substantial amount of "stash".  More than I can use in this life.  Hubby dearest says more than any three people can use in their lifetimes.  I am not pointing this out as if I'm bragging, but as a way to remind myself that having all this also ties and binds me.  I feel a little guilt if I purchase 1 more item as I have so much now that I haven't done anything with.  I feel chained to holding onto stuff due to the memories that I have of the who/what/when/where of that period of my life.  I have enough bins to build my own fortress.  Coincidentally, those bins have become my fortress.  A wonderful comment in "A Christmas Carol" is said to Scrooge that we forge link upon link, miles of heavy chain, that hold us down.  In my case I can always come up with a good reason to purchase just one more item, but the reality is, I don't have a good reason.  Not until I use what I have.  Or give it away. As I see bin upon bin of acquired stash empty and leave, I can feel my load get lighter.  I feel better. I know I am undoing the chain I've forged.

This is also not a "only me" issue.  Many, many of my friends and those on the web that I am friends forged by hobby (groups like Ravelry, and Knitting Paradise come to mind) have exactly the same issue.  You know it's bad when someone on those sites issues the challenge "how do you sneak your latest purchase into the house or what money did you rob Peter from to pay for your latest purchase"  and the answers are numerous.  Or like me, when you sit down to give away bin upon bin of magazines and you do a quick mathematical assessment and realize you could have purchased something more tangible than a "here today, gone tomorrow" reading material, something you could have Googled online for free.  Or as hubby dearest says, you could have, ahem, SAVED the money.  Yeah, like THAT is ever  going to happen.  We've been married since Noah built the ark and I admit right now, I am so not a saver of cash.  I can save sippy cups from my "baby" (although said baby is now almost 15) but for me to save $1.00 would require me to be chained to a bed in a steel cage, with a  multi-locked door attached.  Yes, I do coupon and do so pretty well I can tell you, but only to fund my fiber addiction.  Hello, my name is Deborah and I am a fiber-aholic.  Don't judge.

But like almost every addict can attest, if we live long enough, are honest with ourselves enough, we come to a point where we acknowledge our issues, and start mending our fences.  My fences are in dire need.  They sag, they've rusted through and I've got the scratch marks to prove it. But they are getting fixed.  One step at a time.....

It is now April and I finally saw my 1st Robin..........

I had to get sick to appreciate this.  On April 3rd, I came down with a vicious stomach flu.  The "2 exits, no waiting" type.  The "I think I just went 12 rounds with Sugar Ray and lost" type.  I spent most of the day (when not in the bathroom) curled into the fetal position and hoping to die, and please God, soon!  But even with all this sickness, I still had to drive #1 son to work and go get him when work was over.  I had to drive #2 son to night school, and go get him when school was over.  I hoped the massive stroke would hit me while stopped at a light.  Anything for the pain to stop.

I don't care what the calendar says, for me, Spring officially begins when I see my 1st robin.  Everyone else in the state has seen them, but not I.  But on my sick day, as I hung precariously between returning to bed or just staying in the bathroom, lo and behold, out the window was a robin.  Close enough to hear his (her?) singing, see the red breast, and even though I was convinced in my soul of souls that I would see my own demise soon, I finally know that Spring is here. Had I not been sick, I would not have seen this robin.

Spring.  Rebirth.  All things made new.  The purging of the land to make way for new growth.  Isn't that what I've been doing lately? No, I don't mean just on April 3rd, where I purged ALOT, but since January.  Purging our abode from all things extra and overwhelming.  Growth.  Realizing that giving up and giving away are not one in the same.  That value is something we all have, when we have nothing else.  It is not always a question of who you are, but of what "who you are" means to you.  I feel comfortable with the "who you are" question.  Maybe that is due to age.  In my 20's, I was all about having fun, live hard, live fast and die young, leaving a good looking corpse.  In my 30's, it was all about "settling down".  Starting a family.  Finding out who God was and whether or not he was important to me.  In my 40's, it was about combining the work I enjoyed with the life I wanted to live.  Now in my 50's, it's about defining what life I want to live and how to accomplish and or combine that with the work I am doing.  Yeah, I know, the last two are kinda jumbled up.  One would have thought the logical idea would have been to define the life I want THEN how to change the life I have with the life I want, but sometimes I tend to put the cart before the horse. My old ADHD kicking in.  Anyway, it's through the reexamining of my life that I am able to see who I am and what I value and where I want to be.  Sometimes, you have to look back to see ahead. Or look out a window, where God will show you your sign of spring.....

One of the benefits of ridding yourself of the stuff you've accumulated

As you know, I am divesting myself of stuff.  It is a"work in progress".  Anything worth doing will almost always be a work in progress.  In this case however, finishing isn't as important.  It's more or less an evolving, not a "check it off the list of things to get done" thing.  If you think about it, any change you make in your life will require you to think, re-think and sometimes think again.  I have been doing alot of "rethinking" of what I want in my life and what I can do without.

As a hobbyist, you collect stuff.  People give you stuff.  Stuff just magically "appears".  Once word gets out that you like crafts, it's almost always assumed that you would just love someone else's stash.  The truth is, sometimes you do.  More than likely though, you probably don't.  I have inherited a whole basement full of stuff.  Fabric I would never have bought for myself.  Yarn of dubious quality, not to mention no idea of the fiber content.  Is it acrylic?  If so, is it all acrylic or is it a blend?  Someones' tossed aside knitting needles, metal of course (I favor wood) and nicked and scratched to boot.  I even got a counted cross stitch  picture, half stitched, with rust on the fabric.  Rust!  I couldn't do anything with it and now it is lining a dump somewhere.  For a long time, I was afraid of throwing away something given to me.  Usually, if I received something from someone, it would be noticed if someone else showed up with it.  That's a problem when you have a very tight group of friends, we know everyone's secrets and what everyone has, hasn't and what they want and admire.  Unless you need to get rid of something.  It's amazing to realize that it is o.k. to not want something.  To give yourself permission to shed stuff that you would not have purchased for yourself, know that someone else would love to have it, cherish more than you and if it truly is rubbish, having the courage to decide to do the world a favor and get rid of it.

But like friends, tossing your belongings aside or just letting them go to someone else, can be difficult.  You have to be able to answer the question, "what does this signify to me and why is it so important for me to hold onto it?"  That's the problem true hoarders have.  They get stuff to the point that stuff owns them.  Everything is so important yet when pushed to answer the hard question "why", they have difficulty putting into words what their excuses are.  The stuff that really means something, well, that is easy to answer.

"This belonged to my grandmother.  When I see it, I remember the countless times that she used it."  This is an item that can't be replaced as it has serious meaning for you.  The problem is when you have stuff that  has no real meaning for you and yet you can't get rid of it.  After a bit, this becomes your security blanket.  You feel safe with it around.  Maybe you went through a major life upheaval, job loss, death of a loved one, something that affected you in a manner you just couldn't deal with rationally.  So you latched onto something safe.  I remember after a 2 1/2 year layoff, that even when I was working elsewhere and barely making ends meet, thinking "when I get my job back, I am going to purchase so much yarn.  This way, if I see something I want to make, I won't have to worry about having the money to purchase the stuff to make it."  In my case, I come by stuff acquisition naturally.  My dad's mother, raised two boys alone (her husband died of a heart attack early in life).  Not only did she put herself through school, she purchased a home (this in the time where women had to have a co-signer for a loan).  She took in relatives children (a whole house of them) when the mother came down with TB.  She did this with no help from the state.  The older children tended the younger children.  She worked 3 to 11.  They all graduated high school, they went on to having successful lives.  They were fed, clean, dressed and didn't want for much.  Yet, even when many times there was more "month than money", she still put food up into a pantry.  She would buy 1 skein of yarn more and put that skein back "just in case".  My mother's mom, canned, put up tons of food, hardly used a grocery store.  These women were from the Depression.  My mom moved us all to Maine when my dad got stationed here and the first thing she did was set up a pantry.  I can still hear her today "You can never tell when you'll need something and the roads will be impassable or a friend will need some help."  She still has a pantry that would feed her for over 6 months.

I have a really large food pantry.  It is my security blanket.  But I have to admit, when I see those bins of fabric, yarn, fiber, I feel safe.  The really difficult thing is realizing that just because something like my many hobbies, something that means so much to me, defines who I am and what I value, does not have the same meaning to my children.  I had a real epiphany watching "Hoarders" the other night.  The daughter of a true hoarder made the comment that when her mother died, all this stuff was headed to a town dump.  I looked around at my stash.  Would my children feel the same way?  I am not taking it with me when I go, so I have to give thought to what is going to happen to it when I'm gone.  My sons would happily just give away or throw away my stuff without another thought.  My daughter would be less quick to throw, but what defines me, doesn't define her.  I don't want her to hold onto some of my stash, only to have it become her ball and chain.  I explained that to her and she told me not to worry.  She did a mini-version of the "100 thing challenge" and I've seen monks cells with more stuff.  Hoarding is not going to be a problem for her.  Her needs a few, a t.v.(for Netflix), a computer, 1 writer she likes alot and her cellphone.  That's it.  The boys have a bit more, add to that my daughters stuff:  video systems (that's right, with an "s") games, boom box and MP3 players. Ipads and tablets.

I have to have my Kindle Fire and my tablet.  They are either with me at work or in my knitting bag.  Always.

A side effect of following this to it's natural conclusion is trying to figure out who should get my stuff when I am gone.  It sounds morbid, but I am really giving thought to including some of my "I would love to know that so & so would receive this" feelings.  To accept the fact that just because it means so much to me, but that it may ONLY mean so much to me.  I question my friends.  They think it odd but they are coming around.  The more I examine the hold my stuff has on me, the more I answer those difficult questions, the more I shed my belongings like a snake sheds it's skin, the reins loosen, the hold eases up, it gets easier and easier.  You realize that you have value that extend up and beyond what you have.  You are not defined by the stuff you have but by the joy the stuff you have brings you.  And you will find as you let go, you can and will be happier with less.

Let's play a game!

I am not sure why this is, but if I am seated, minding my own business, not bothering anybody, the remaining four people in this household feel some sort of obligation to come find me and find something useful for me to do.  Obviously, they feel, I must be bored silly so therefore it is their sole job in life to fix that.  Their method of fixing this is to either break something, demand food, offer to make their own food (which while that SOUNDS like the way to go, often times produces more destruction and loss of food I was saving/making for dinner/made to be your dad's lunch at work tomorrow than even I can overlook.  And I can overlook ALOT). or choose to invite their friends over because "don't worry, mom's not doing anything and she loves to cook, so she can rustle us up something to eat."  I would love to say this is all about the kids, but I'd be lying.  Husband dearest like to make eggs over easy and occasionally he ends up with egg not quite making it into the pan.  I've come home from work to see egg on my countertops, once dripping down the front of my stove and pans (and drip pans over the gas burners of my stove) soaking in the sink.

Where did they get THAT idea?  Could be because 90% of my day revolves around the kitchen.  Could be because 90% of THEIR day revolves around the kitchen (hence explaining why my time in the kitchen is as much as it is).  But one thing I've noticed is that left to their own devices, my kids can invent more things for me to worry about, question their sanity, question MY sanity, rethink my stance on childlessness and sometimes wonder why I got married.  Take Thursday for example.

I am downstairs hanging laundry.  I am only gone a short period of time.  As I come up the stairs, I encounter an unusual smell.  More of a stench.  A bad stench.  Now I have raised 2 boys so I am almost a genius at "guess that smell".  But this one is like sulfur,  rancid fat, and something "hot".

"What is that odor?"  I demand as soon as I get both feet on the 1st floor.  "What did you do now?"

"Well, he (being a friend who shall remain nameless so that his mom can hold her head up in public) wanted to know if egg shells burn so we tried to light one on fire."

Yep.  20 years old and 18 years old and still playing with fire. I am blessed.

"Where is your sister?"  As it turns out, she is in her room.  She told me later that she didn't want to be a part of whatever stupid human trick her brothers were going to do THIS time and sought refuge in the sanctuary of her room.  And could I please do SOMETHING about that smell??  PLEASE AND NOW??

Want to take a guess as to how long it took to get that stench out of my house?  Well, that was Thursday, it is now Sunday and it's about 90% gone.

For the record, eggs will burn.  But not before releasing a truly obnoxious, foul, stench that you will not forget anytime soon.

If only I could.......

Hey look! I do have a sewing machine under all that stuff!

I am a collector.   I am a crafter.  I have amassed a ridiculously large collection of "stuff".  I have never met a craft store I haven't liked and I am on a 1st name basis with many such stores in the area.  When we went to Pennsylvania with the kids (Hershey Park for a week) and then on an 8 day Caribbean cruise, the 1st question I had when we went ashore was "Are there any craft stores or fabric stores or yarn/fiber stores around?" I didn't find any in Nassau (probably because husband dearest drug me away from almost every island loving human we came into contact with) and he wouldn't let me out of the park in PA.  Although, I did bring some knitting with me to both places.  And books.  That's right, with an "s" at the end.  As in "more than one".  Last summer, on a camping trip, I brought my spinning wheel.  AND USED IT!  My oldest and youngest went paddle boating, our middle son was away at Army drills, hubby dearest took our dog Chelsea for a walk and I sat by the fire, overlooking the water and spun yarn all day long.  But this is my way of relaxing.  I have many friends who will gladly tell you they have never, ever, ever, seen me without something to work on with me.  I go to church with knitting in my pew (although I haven't resorted to knitting during the sermon) but I have it with me in case we have to stay longer.  When I take my daughter to St. Paul's for rite 13, I knit while I am in a Bible study which meets at the same time as rite 13.  I knit at work during lunch.  I crochet, as a break from knitting.  I weave when I am tired of doing knitting or crocheting.  I do counted cross stitch in the summer as the bright sun makes the holes easier to see.  Needlepoint too.  I spin (both wheel and now drop spindle) whenever I can.  I sew or quilt when I get the urge.  But if I get tired of that all, I read.

Which like I stated earlier, explains why I have amassed such a collection of "stuff".  I am afraid to throw out anything, just in case I might need it later.  After all, I must have needed it at some time, because I wouldn't have purchased it if I didn't need it.  But when I read the 100 item challenge, I really felt convicted.  It's not quite as bad as what you see on Hoarders.  But I need to nip this in the butt.  So, in January I started getting rid of my stash.

A pleasant surprise has occurred though.  I purchased two years ago a 1917 Singer treadle sewing machine.  It is in perfect condition, decals and paint are pristine, works like a champ, has all the feet and attachments to go with it and is a beautiful machine.  Yeah, I'm not proud, much.  And it sits, all closed up, in our bedroom.  With (because it has a flat surface all closed up and we all know, flat surfaces don't stay empty for long) a mountain of stuff on top.  Fat quarters that I purchased at Mardens and at this lovely quilt shop here in Litchfield that frankly if you didn't know it existed, you'd never find it. I've driven past it for YEARS without paying it any attention until a friend of mine in a quilting guild asked me if I had heard of it.  Nope, I replied, so with Garmin in tow, I drove her and I right to it's doorstep.  OMG, the fabric!!!!!  The tools!!!!  You could be there for hours.  But if you miss the very small sign out front, you'd never find it.  Hubby dearest wishes I hadn't found it.  But I digress.  I have all the fat quarters, and library books and sewing books and mail and some mending that's been tossed up on top of the leaning tower of stuff.  So today, I sorted through it all.  My friend is getting some fat quarters I just know she'd love (including some that I purchased from that store that she'd eyeballed but was buying other fabric), I found old mail that is now lining my garbage can, Library books are now in the car to be returned.  I opened up the sewing lid, pulled out and set up the sewing machine, gave it a good oiling, sewed for a bit and then decided, dust be damned, I'm leaving it up.  Less room to pile stuff on and it sure does look pretty!  And isn't it nice to have something pleasant to look at?  Yeah, I'm not proud, much.......

Normal people use their vacation time.........

It is snowing here in Maine.  A nice little nor'easter.  We are getting about 8" (more or less) of snow.  I took today off from work as I do not drive in snow.  Not saying I can't, I just chose not to.  If the roads are so bad that a school bus can't maneuver them, I feel pretty safe saying I shouldn't be on them either.  I am the lead car in a 12 car train, with me gripping the wheel tightly, heart pounding, driving 30 miles an hour in a 50 mph zone.  Not worth it.

So, what did I do for "fun" today??  I cleaned our bathroom.  I sorted through alot of clothes that Salvation Army is going to be getting.  I found out Salvation Army takes magazines, thereby saving a dump somewhere of the mountainous piles of magazines I've been keeping (hoarding).

We have 2 full baths. For some insane reason however everyone in our home uses our master bath.  The kids bathroom is clean.  Our bathroom looks like a football team locker room following a party.  On a good day.  Today was NOT a good day.

It appears to be common knowledge in our home (among our kids at least) that garbage cans expand to hold garbage put in them, above and beyond the current size they are.  I don't know how else to explain it.  Once the can is full, my family keeps on dumping more and more garbage in.  It backs up the wall, it topples over to the floor, it gets itself up and into our laundry hamper.  And three teenage/young adult kids can not figure out that if you empty the container into the large plastic bag I've provided for just such a moment as this, put a new plastic grocery bag into the now empty garbage can, mom will stop screaming and carrying on like a deranged gorilla in heat. Apparently the current assumption is that garbage removal causes brain damage.  Or watching mom go all nut-so and fruit loops on your butt is funny. Or both.  Which is why a bad day at work is sometimes better than a good day at home.

Our tub/mud bath was a disgrace.  I realized it was dirty but was busy cleaning other dirtier rooms and finally when I got to it, it resembled our garden during spring planting.  Nothing was cutting that mess.  In frustration, I googled "how to clean a dirty tub" when someone wrote "try borax".  Well, lo and behold, God must have been smiling down on me cause in my pantry downstairs (of COURSE it was downstairs!) is a 5 gallon bucket of borax!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  I sprinkled it on, let it sit and TA DA!!!!! Nice, clean bathroom!

Other people go camping on their vacations.  Other people go see movies, go out to eat, visit with friends.....I scrub bathrooms.  I am now officially crazy.