reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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waiting for the spaceship. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

and the shiny brite spaceship gathered all the excess – from the basement, the attic, every nook and cranny – and took off at warped speed, giant contrail following it, chugging into outer space, lugging it all to the delighted beings on another planet. 

in my dreams.

no…this is cleaning out that i can’t avoid. it is time.

and all the books on our planet on this topic – ie: the konmari method (ala marie kondo), claire middleton’s sentimental person’s guide to decluttering, etc etc etc – don’t reeeeally help. (however – here’s a pro tip – sitting and reading these books certainly does successfully delay actually doing it!)

the other day we sold rockband. it was a complete set and kept in pristine condition. we sat in a grocery store parking lot and waited for the guy who bought it off craig’s list to show up. because it was christmas eve i brought a giant roll of wide ribbon so that he could simply wrap the box in lots of ribbon to put under the family tree. the moment he drove away in his hatchback – stuffed with the huge box in which i had carefully wrapped all the elements and instruments of the game – i was hooked. 

it’s time to clean out.

i guess the first place to start is the closet and the dresser. now, we only have one dresser – i have four drawers and d has one. our closets are small – remember, this is an old house – and it’s difficult to see everything because they are too tightly hung with clothing. looking at my clothes, i always ponder a few things: will this ever fit again? how can i give this away when i have emotional attachment to it? will i need this skirt/dress/pair of pants/blazer if i ever have a “traditional” job again? what about concert attire? and shoes…yikes. there’s a whole ‘nother issue. i haven’t bought many shoes at all in recent years – like the last ten or fifteen, but i still have shoes that i wore in 1995, so there are a few pairs in my closet, the closet in the sitting room and in a bin in the basement. the ones i wear over and over? very few. i suspect that is a theme…for most of us…for most of the things we place on our bodies and on our feet.

and so, it’s time.

it’s not like you haven’t read this here before. it is – yes – a recurring theme. i googled my own writings and was reminded this yen-to-shed-stuff has been going on for years. even in 2021 i wrote about the “lateral list” of things to do. let’s just say i’ve been gaining momentum. gearing up. stoking my ruthless.

eh. let’s just say i’ve been procrastinating. isn’t that what basements and attics are for? the indulging of procrastination. yup.

anyway, i have been bitten by the craig’slist, marketplace, ebay bug. maybe a few things can generate a grocery trip or two. otherwise, “free porch pick-up” and “donate here” sound good. 

the up-north gang gathered before the holiday and sipped brandy slushies. we each talked about how we had saved bins of toddler clothes, toys, trinkets for our children, now, all grown-up. we have the corners of attics and storage rooms in basements with giant plasticware carefully storing these treasures we were certain our children would want. only they don’t. they don’t want any of it. here we are, children of great depression parents – certain we were doing the right thing, the frugal thing, and yes, yes, the sentimentally thready thing – and they, children of children of great depression parents – are far enough removed from all that heavy sense of handing-it-down/passing-it-on responsibility – that they all astoundingly tell us “no thanks”. without remorse. even flippantly. as opposed to our voices when our own parents passed bins and bins and boxes and such on to us…respectfully and gratefully accepting it all, even with no clear idea what to do with it, just trusting in the storage capacity of our basements and attics. so here we all are – with bins and bins and boxes and such – in the emotionally perilous journey of cleaning out. not for the meek at heart.

it’s time.

and so, is there anyone out there who would like vintage puffy santas or the sesame street vintage play gym or a smattering of noritake china with teapot or a collection of disney vcr tapes or an 8-track player complete with 8-track tapes? perhaps multiple tiny oshkosh overalls or polly flinders smocked toddler dresses? or some fenton hobnail milk glass pieces? or decorative plates for hanging? 

time.

mayyyybe.

what i really need is a nap and a spaceship. now. 

*****

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in the taffy-pull. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

i procrastinate putting away the wrought iron table and chairs. i just want to leave a couple pillows out, a place to sit, the possibility of a meal – one more time – at the table on the deck.

all the other things-of-summer are put away. we’ve cleared the potting stand. we’ve transplanted the lavender. we’ve put the tiki torches and the fire column in the garage. the old door and the black and white prayer flags are taken down and the rugs are rolled up. it’s not easy – this nod to impending winter. and so, we keep out the wrought iron table and chairs and just a couple pillows.

and this week – it has been possible – because this week has been a gift of sun and warmth. and this week we have been able to stretch it out a bit longer, pulling on the taffy of early-autumn just a little bit more.

it’s like a gear-up moment. a chance to sit – for no other purpose but sitting – in the sun. a chance to ponder the coming holiday season. a chance to daydream a bit. a chance to let go – even momentarily – of worry.

and when bellaruth – in my guided imagery meditation – asks me to imagine a place, to see it, to feel it all around me – i would guess that one of those places might be sitting at this outside table, pillow behind me, feet on another chair, eyes closed in the sun. or maybe, sitting on the edge of the deck in the taffy-pull of glorious fall days.

*****

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productive avoidance. [merely a thought monday]

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i’m thinking this is just a fancy term for procrastination?  you know, those moments when you have a list-of-things-to-do and you do something NOT on the list.  to be honest, i ALWAYS add the things i ended up doing TO the list so that i can cross them off.  there is something i find so very satisfying about crossing things off.  even if i haven’t gotten to the crux of what i need to get done.

d says that i work in a circular manner.  i suppose he’s right.  but i swear it’s a woman-thing.  we are spinning many plates at the same time, keeping them all in the air, and, although everything will eventually get done, we move from one thing to the next and then circle back.  i know very few gals who – in an OCD kind of way – stay cemented to one task until its completion without punctuating it with others.

when The Girl and The Boy were little i was constantly moving from writing at the piano to reading books aloud to playing with matchbox cars to making business calls and back to the piano….many layers all at once. i remember having a phone conversation with one of the VPs of barnes and noble when they were placing one of my albums on the listening station wall.  in the middle of this phone call, you could hear one of my children in toddlerhood – i will not mention which one – in the background, beckoning me from the bathroom, yelling, “i finished!  i pooped!”  the VP heard it too and he was gracious enough to tell me he would hold on.  it’s a mom thing, right?  those spinning plates.

we work differently, d and me.  we are both productive, but i’m guessing he would oft label me productively avoidant.  eh.  he just doesn’t see how i accomplish that ever-growing-ever-crossed-off list in my head (or on paper, for that matter.)  it’s amazing what i can accomplish when i am “supposed” to be accomplishing something else.  i know you know what i mean!  #allwillgetdone #whatdoesitallmeananyway?

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don’t wait! [chicken marsala monday]

don'twait WITH EYES jpeg copy 2.jpg

my sweet momma had this thing.  and she passed it down to me.  genetics are brutal!  when she would get something new, she would saaaaaave it.  for later.  for good.  for something special.  no matter what.  we would give her gifts (like a beautiful scarf or blouse) and she would wait to wear it.   she would purchase a new pair of shoes and they would stay in the box, only for “good” wear.  and…i have the gene.  d jokes that every time i ever get anything new, he knows he must wait about six months (an exaggeration…well, maybe an exaggeration only sometimes) to see me wearing it.  now, i don’t purchase things too often, so i understand my momma’s “thing”…you want to keep the item in tip-top shape, you want to treat it like it is ‘special’.  but it’s a curse.  my sister did not inherit this trait.  she will buy something and wear it later the same day.  i envy her nonchalance, that cavalier attitude of well-i-bought-it-and-i’m-gonna-wear-it-ness.  oh, how i wish i could do that.

recently, though, i got this new tunic…up north at a little boutique in a little town.  it was on sale – 50% off – and i pondered it for quite some time (ask ANY of my girlfriends about my fine purchasing-decision-making-skills.)  d convinced me to get it…i mean it was $24.  a total bargain.  i….wait for it…wore it the next day!  the very next day!!  and many times since.  it has already made it to the pack-it-for-an-evening-in-the-mountains-with-a-pair-of-skinny-jeans-and-boots list.  i am wondering if, somehow, i have overcome my waiting-thing.

eh.  i doubt it.  i still haven’t worn the pair of heels in the box in the closet that i got on sale about six years ago.  they are waiting for later.  for something good.  for something special.

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