Saturday, February 28, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 14 Long and Winding Brick Road Feb. 28, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 14 Long and Winding Brick Road  Feb. 28, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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   (photos soon)                                          
                                   The Long and Winding Brick Road
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com

These are perfect bricks - made out of boxes and wallpaper covering.  They were props from a play of mine (http://rennysstory.com/) last performed very successfully here in San Diego over seven years ago.  They sit in a large plastic box, to protect them from the elements.

Why have I saved them?  Because, maybe one day, the play will be done again and we will need these bricks.  Of course, my friend, Diane, who was the director, the woman who actually created these bricks, is retired and no longer directs, so it would have to be someone else.  Someone who would want to take these exact bricks - in other words, use the same blocking ideas that would require these bricks - and recycle them.

So I wait for this to happen.  And wait.  Should I keep them for that day that this could occur?  Or should I..... just throw them out?

I talk with Diane, who gives me permission to discard these cardboard remnants of years past.   I continue to keep them in the hoard.  Then she gives a magic suggestion - what if I donate them, maybe Amvets can use them for a cute display?  The idea illuminates my brain!  An idea whose time has come!  I have a rationale that will allow me to leave these bricks out for Amvets on Monday!  I go to my husband and tell him the good news - and he says, "Oh, good, then Amvets will get to throw them away'.....and my hopes are dashed.

Why would I donate them .....just to be put in a garbage pail elsewhere?   He has thrown cold water on my dreams that the bricks will live on, elsewhere, in a happy life.  Like the children told their beloved puppy hit by a car that has gone to a happy farm, I must have my illusions!

Then he says, 'When they do the play next time, the director will get new bricks' and I am happy again.  I decide to try to remove some mental clutter about this - to throw away the idea that everything saved can be used again.  It's as if the idea is frozen in my brain.  I throw warm water on it - maybe if I did that to the bricks, they will get wet and really be ready for the garbage pail. 

After much intense rumination, I decide to put the bricks in a plastic bag, clearly labeled for Amvets- with a note that they can be used for a display.  I will leave it in God's hands what happens to the bricks.  Or the people who sort through the Amvets donations.  Or maybe.....that's the same person.......


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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Happy Hoarder Day # 13 I Dreamt of Clutter Feb. 27, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 13  I Dreamt of Clutter Feb. 27, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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                                                I Dreamt of...... Clutter
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com

For those unfamiliar with this blog, to understand today's post, you may want to read yesterday's.  I asked the question, how do you throw away dreams? What the hell does that mean anyways?  I don't think I know, but I will try to unravel the ball of string (probably saved somewhere in my domain) that led me to this revelation.

On Day # 9, I discussed deferred decisions, but then, yesterday, I started to grasp that the most serious clutter is within.  Anger, annoyance, prejudice, self-pity, self-loathing (those last two dance together) and the scariest - self-denial.  That one covers three problems - denying oneself (the pleasures of many things, including a neatened area), just plain denial (which ain't a river in Egypt if you say it properly) of reality, and the biggie - denial of one's .....self.   We are not our junk, we are not the things we have, or lost.  Yet somehow, the loss of something beloved creates a hole, which we need to fill somehow.  If we work at the loss, grieve through all the steps, find another to love (human or animal or other passion), then I doubt if I would need to hold onto all these other pieces of junk.

Nature abhors a vacuum, so when I do not address the losses of dreams I once had, then the items I save fill in - not well, but so what?  The job is done.  And I am surrounded by my substitute substitutions. 

The receipts I save represent the dreams I once had that money would be less of a problem one day - look, I had money to buy things even when times were tight.  The records of a business long gone recalls the good times, which flood back when I see the old pages, when dreams of the future were in color and yet to come. And the biggest, the dream that I would have been a great success as a writer when I was young enough to enjoy it.  That dream is gone, but I am working to replace it with a dream that my writing's success will be shown through how it helped people, how what I wrote changed others....that is not a youthful dream, so I can hold it now.......it takes up no room, but it fills me with great happiness.  I go to sleep.... with a smile on my face. (Hopefully I will remember to wear something else when I awaken, or else my roommates complain.)




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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 12 Invisible Clutter Feb. 26, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 12 Invisible Clutter  Feb. 26, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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                                                     Invisible Clutter
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com




I was going to leave this page blank to make my point, then realized if I didn't explain what invisible clutter was, some people might not understand.

All week, actually, for 11 days, I have been focusing on the different pieces of visible clutter I have been able to let go.  Ripped, stained clothing, old broken machines, mildewed papers.....empty spice jars.  Not an easy task - I have struggled every day.  But today is the worst.  I came to a horrifying realization - if I keep up at this rate, I will have to live forever to get rid of the excess stuff I have now!

And then it came to me, another realization, one that might make the rest a tiny bit easier.  Yes, it's possible, just possible, that the worst clutter is.......not visible.  Oooh, I can hear some thinking....'if you can't see it, how would anyone know it's still there?'  The answer is, unfortunately, now very obvious to me.

Only I can know.

For the clutter that is at the root of all the rest is......inside of my head..... in my heart....in my very soul.   All the excuses I make, the weird reasons for saving, the exceptionally odd rationale I use to hold on to all this....this stuff, it's all....in my head.

And now that I have identified it, it does not make it any easier to rid myself of its encircling tentacles.

My first chore.....to root out the need to look at every single receipt that I have ever owned or seen, or had pushed into some deep pocket.  I can actually throw them out....without a glance.  The root is in the remembering of the moments when those receipts were first generated.  WHY DO I NEED TO REMEMBER?  If I never see these again, and never remember their origins, how will that hurt me?  Am I afraid of hurting someone else by discarding these completely useless - and mostly faded - pages of numbers?  Does knowing that a dozen eggs once cost 45 cents help me in any way?

I touch the wounds in myself, and hope to heal them soon......but how do you throw away....dreams?



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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 11 Tenderizer is the Night Feb. 25, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 11  Tenderizer is the Night Feb. 25, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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                                                Tenderizer is the Night
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com


Almost forgot one of my biggest successes this week.  It only took me half an hour to throw out the smaller bottle (on the right in the photo) of meat tenderizer.  It was empty.  Not a hard choice?  But there's a story behind that bottle.  Always a story.  Actually more like a novel in this case, as that Adolph's meat tenderizer bottle was purchased over 25 years ago,(wait, is it almost 29?  but who's counting?)  when I was first married.

And it lasted all these years.  Because it was never used as meat tenderizer.  I was raised to believe that if meat was good, it would also be tender. and that it would be unnecessary to use a tenderizer.

Ah, the plot thickens!  Why buy tenderizer, if not to use on meat?  Because I have a brother who is wonderful, and knows a great deal of unusual healing tips.  Many years ago, he read about papain- which is papaya enzyme, the active ingredient in tenderizer - and told our family the papain was great for bee stings (or any sting where something was injected)

The first time I used it, I was amazed at how quickly it worked.  All you had to do was add a bit of water, make a paste and put it on the sting (after the stinger was out)  Within a few moments, the pain would start to stop, and by the five minute mark, no swelling, little pain.  Amazing!  I have shared this with many people, and have never heard of a time when it didn't work.

In fact, the reason the bottle was used up at all  was because I often gave friends a small bag of the stuff to use.  But it had been emptied......before the move last June.  And I had saved it.  Pretty sad.  But wait until you hear the story!  (Stories, actually, for another day)

Bottom line - I threw out the bottle.  Not the new, larger one - that I still have, because I may need tenderizer again someday, when bees make their comeback.  I can wait another 25 years........


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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 10 Body Clutter Feb. 24, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 10  Body Clutter Feb. 24, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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(photos still in the cloud - will post as soon as they arrive!)
                       
                                                       Body Clutter
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com


Forget body glitter, think of body clutter. The reality is, that I am cluttered on more than just the physical level things I have saved.  I have managed to clutter up my.....body.  Not with piercings or tatoos, but, did you guess it?  Dare I say it?  Yes, my body is cluttered with..... food.

I eat food sometime that should be thrown out not because it's bad but because no one should save three tablespoons of old rice.  No one wants to eat it......it costs more to save it, and, if I don't eat it, it gets stuck in the back of the fridge as clutter there, until it grows a delicious new coat of many colors.
 
Reality again ......just like when physical items create clutter in the home, the excess food creates body clutter........ and that results in a very simple bunch of...... fat. 

The thing about fat is that,  like the other clutter, I have many reasons to hold on to it  - and all of the excuses, I mean rational reasons - are wonderful and ridiculous at the same time.

Just like I explained away old papers that have no value, I say to myself ...'oh look, here's a milky way bar that I just found where I had hidden it from my son.....let's see what it tastes like.'  

My son who no longer eats sugar, and hasn't eaten sugar in many years, so he is a poor excuse for hiding these candy bars.  So why hide them?  For emergencies.  Like when there's an asteroid that hits the earth and no crops can grow for two years, or when there's a tsunami.  

So, I forget about the candy bar, and when I finally find the candy bar, do I give it to someone else or throw it out because it is probably old and doesn't taste good or .......do I eat it creating more body clutter for myself? (This is a rhetorical question)  When I save the mildewed book, is it the same as the chocolate that has gone a bit white with age......or worse, the Kit Kat bar that has the added protein of tiny worms when you bite into it?

For just as the physical clutter creates unhealthy situations - potential for fires and rodents and bugs of every variety - the body clutter provides unnecessary breeding grounds for illness.  The excess weight puts me at risk for high blood pressure (I notice that when my weight drops, my need for medicine drops away, too)  And there's always the joy of the added gift of diabetes.....or heart disease or a myriad of other unpleasant side effects of the corpus delecti clutter.

But today I see it in a new light.  It is irritating in the same way the rest of the junk is - I can see the reasons for the hoarding, know they are beyond foolish, but the dropping of the holding on of food is just as difficult as the holding on to the past.  Or is it the same issue?  Letting go of the past, of the objects, the yums-yums........

Perhaps this is too big an issue for one day.  Right now I need to donate some cans and some delicious chocolate bars.to those who can appreciate it .......but before they go, maybe I can just have one more eensy, weensy, tiny little bite?


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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Monday, February 23, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 9 Apologies to Langston Feb. 23, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 9   Feb. 23, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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(photos still in the cloud - will post as soon as they arrive!)
   One of my favorite poets is Langston Hughes - his real poem, A Dream Deferred,  inspired this post - and can be read if you click here

                                             Apologies to Langston
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com



Please don't take away my poetic license for the following - and I hope Mr. Hughes will forgive me but.....

What happens to decisions deferred? 

Do they pile up
Like the boxes in my shed?

Or stack up in plastic containers...
and fall upon my head?

Do they smell like rained on cardboard
or mold and mildew over
like a growing 'hoard'?

Maybe if I bag them
They won't be too heavy a load.....

But what if they explode?


A little graphic, but unfortunately, sometimes houses filled with do explode.  Just like when gases build up underground, often cluttered houses become ticking time bombs for sad events like fires, floods and even explosions.   And even if these horrible events do not occur, there are other types of explosions - arguments and fights over the clutter and what is to become of all these deferred decisions.  And that's exactly what happens when all the decisions are put off.....for that famous 'other day' when somehow, everything will be clearer.  Yet somehow, unless there is an act of God - usually a death or other monumental change - the bad choices pile higher by the day, until the sun of reason can be blocked out.  Not a good place to live.

Please understand, in no way do I want to diminish what Hughes was talking about in his original, wonderful poem - one of my favorites.  The pain and suffering he captured in just a few short, perfect lines was possibly one of the most effective ways of expressing hundreds of years of terrible trouble, some of which we can see to this very day.

But the reality of life is that it all boils down to one minute, now.  One decision, about one thing I will either keep and put away, or......discard.  So off I go.....but can't resist a final nod to Langston......life hasn't been a crystal stair, but it's sure had a lot of room for clutter on every single landing.......

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The last line refers to another famous poem by Langston Hughes -  Mother to Son- you can read it here-
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177021
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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8


Sunday, February 22, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 8 Oscar Winning Clutter Feb. 22, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 8   Feb. 22, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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(photos still in the cloud - will post as soon as they arrive!)
                                     
                                              Oscar Winning Clutter
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com

I do not watch the Oscars - I was not nominated, so I only have the TV on in the background to hear what's happening.  Many years ago I gave up the notion that there would be a special category for me.  And that, the announcer, whoever that would be, would suddenly stop the show and say, ' Oops, we forgot that a special award was invented for you, Janet, where are you?' And I'd be sitting, eating chocolate and saying, 'Why the hell didn't anyone tell me?  Was my cell phone off?  Or did I miss the call?

That surprise award would have been for most promising unknown writer.  Or unknown writer most likely to succeed.  Or writer in underwear most likely to be eating Ben and Jerry's while watching the awards.  Something special.

Now I fear the surprise award would be for clutter - but I know - from watching Hoarder Reality Shows - that I could not win that award either.  I have no pets pooping in my clutter - well, maybe a mouse or two outside on the driveway.  But I do not hoard old, half eaten food, and my kitchen and bathroom are cleaned weekly.  The vacuum sucks up dust on a regular basis, and the fridge is cleaned, too.  So, with all my junk, I still cannot beat the professional hoarders.

And, to be fair, I did get rid of a lot....but ......I also lied a bit.  I still haven't really junked the show papers.  I need to pick one paper from each show - then toss the rest.  How sad that I fear forgetting, yet if I had never seen these papers, would never have thought of them....ever again.  Maybe I should get an honorary Oscar for pretending to throw out items that I never do?

Wait.....did I hear that?  Were they calling my name?  Gotta go, have to find my acceptance speech in all this clutter.......I want to thank the academy for recognizing that holding on to clutter requires extra special talent........pretending that one day, it will all be gone.......

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Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8


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Saturday, February 21, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 7 Throwing My Life Away Feb. 21, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 7 Throwing My Life Away Feb. 21, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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(photos still in the cloud - will post as soon as they arrive!)
                                                   

                              Throwing My Life Away
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com

One week.

God made the whole world in six days, then rested.  But he didn't have to get rid of any clutter.

In one week of my official starting to de-clutter, I have gotten quite a distance - both forward and backwards.  I have rid myself of over 25 pieces of clothing - most today, with the help of my dear friend, Yvonne.  Yvonne is also known as 'evil' Yvonne - she laughs at me and gets me to get organized, and I am forever in debt to her for her wisdom, kindness and stamina.  It is she who often gets me to finish another pile, so the area worked on  looks finished instead of merely a bit better.

And her laughter makes the dreariness of discarding a bit more livable.  For she understands that I have bizarre attachments to strange things.  And she lives in a much smaller place than I do, so I feel horribly guilty when I complain about having to whittle down my pink tank tops from 27 to only 20 in an effort to have them all fit in one drawer.   (Okay, 27 was a bit odd....the real number was different.....it was......32!  I just love the pink blouses!  And the stain level system failed me miserably- see Day# 1)

Yvonne was not the only work done.

The photo will show Yvonne with some of the giveaway bags, but also a pile of papers.

This pile was the hardest to discard - the remnants of my past.  As I sit here, I can barely remember what I threw away, but as I did it, it was like ripping a band aid off a new scab - exquisitely painful.   My husband was amazed that I had saved anything at all from the box of old records - paperwork from the years we had first been married, the pre-children years.  Shows we had done together all over California - all types of shows.  The application forms, the copies of checks, the letters with information about the shows...all completely useless now for any purpose other than ....memories, of the way we were.(Good title for a song?)

Here's the rub.....will I be able to recall these events without these pages?  Until I looked at them, they were dim, misty, water-colored in my past.....now, I see the tables we were assigned and I can see it all again, the people we met, where we stayed, the fun times, the tired times, the days of relaxation after a long, successful show.

When people say you are throwing away your life, it is usually meant in a bad way - over a useless love, a foolish whim, some horrible vice.....So when I have to throw these items away, it is almost as if I am throwing away....my life.   I realize that getting rid of a little is a toe in the ocean, and that if I want to swim to Catalina, I will need to conquer more of my fears of forgetting.

But it feels so good to see it all start.  The bags are ready for Monday's Amvets pick-up, and I am ready for a dip in the jacuzzi.  (Or as my son says, I AM the dip in the jacuzzi)

Maybe, just maybe, I am not throwing away my life.....maybe I am starting a new chapter.


-----------------------------------------------------------------
Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8


Friday, February 20, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 6 The Ma in Many Feb. 20, 2015

  Happy Hoarder  Day # 6  Feb. 20, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of..... hoard
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(photos still in the cloud - will post as soon as they arrive!)




                                                         The Ma in Many
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com

My mother gave me many presents, physical - many, many physical! - and others, so many others, of the emotional and spiritual kind.

Why, as a writer, use the word 'many' so many times in one sentence?

Because  my mother is a many kind of person.  She has had many birthdays, and today is one of them.  Her 89th.  And I have many of her gifts in my life - my two children have her genetic material, which is sturdy and smart, and she helped us to buy our first house, where we lived for over a quarter of a century.

I wear dresses, and blouses and underwear and bathing suits she bought me (I hate to shop!) and my home is filled with gifts from over the years.  Too many to list in one tiny blog.  Too many.

Emotionally, she was strong, moving a family 3000 miles to a place where she knew no one and had no friends.  Within a few years, that had changed completely - her friends have numbered in the hundreds at times - before the years whittled down the list a bit, and she no longer is able to get around as well.  Two falls in the last few months - too many.

She has many things in her life that are good - three healthy children (physically - mental is a whole other story!) and two wonderful grandchildren who love her dearly.  She still has many friends - most younger now - and she is still able to walk and talk and read and laugh and eat her beloved Hagen Daz Dark Chocolate bars.  One a day because she doesn't want to overdo and never be able to eat them at all ever again.  (A good motto for many things)

And she has many…. things.  I mean a great many things.  Her house is filled with gifts of all kinds to be given to friends.....someday.  Books, and tchatchkas of all varieties - dusty mugs, out-of-date electronics, decaying plastic kitchen tools,  dust creased towels, deflated sports balls, out-of-style clothing in every size and shape for every possible friend she has now - and all the ones she will meet in the future.

And she has many, many, many containers.  Of all shapes and sizes. Washed and dried carefully for future preservation in the Smithsonian.  For food she will one day need to store.  Every shape and size - because before recycling became popular, my mother saved.  A child of the Depression is one excuse, but her family was not destitute then.  And that really can’t explain the saving of the twist n ties – which are free at every store, as are the myriad of plastic bags that adorn the kitchen surfaces not covered in containers.

And she has many, many magazines - and newspapers.  Stacks as high as a six year old.  (At one time, the stacks were only baby height, then toddler.  She reads a lot, but she will truly have to live to be a thousand to read all she has hoarded....I mean saved....and she would have to stop now.  Which she can't, because the books and magazines keep coming, like a tsunami of paper through the mail every day.  She subscribes for a good reason - she wants to win the Publishers Clearing House prize (PCH- also stands for Pretty Chancy Hoarding)  so she can leave to her family a legacy of many dollars. 

 You see, her heart is in the right place - unfortunately there isn't much space for anything else in that house!

So what is the reason for all these many things?  Doctors can debate, but the reality is what we live with, and we, the many who love her, are having to come together, to remove these precious, horrifying towers of crap, before they grow to King Kong size and fall and crush her some night as she heads to the kitchen for her midnight ice cream.

Sadly, I have inherited her hoarding gene.  So I try valiantly to rid myself of my garbage, while helping my siblings at Mom’s, and trying to retain the original, very decent reasons for becoming a hoarder.  As I like to call them - the ' road to hell' reasons- thrift (why buy something if you already have it) , generosity (so and so would just love this) and saving the planet (re-use, recycle.....regift)

It is a Herculean task - but my sister and brother and I are growing closer and laughing a lot because of it.  Because we can still laugh.  And, as a friend so aptly put it –‘who cares about the mess, you can always clean that up.  What would you rather have – a clean house and no Mom?’  And I know she is right.

So I wish my mother a ‘Happy Birthday’, and give her a gift that can be eaten (Mallomars, not the healthiest, but, oh, so happy-making) and will most certainly not be saved or re-gifted.  

To another year.......we lift our Mallomars (yes, she shares them) to toast the chances that come with the greatest gift...life.

Too maudlin?  I am saving my tears for another day.  For I may be able to save a lot of odds and ends – many odds and lots of ends – but no matter how I try, I just can’t hoard time.  It just slips out of that bottle…..so, Happy Birthday, Mom, and many, many, many  more.



Thursday, February 19, 2015

Happy Hoarder Day # 5 by Janet S. Tiger Facing the Music Feb. 19, 2015


Happy Hoarder  Day # 5 Feb. 19, 2015
 A journey into cleaning up a big pile of hoard
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(photos still in the cloud - will post as soon as they arrive!)

                                                   Facing the Music
                                             
                                                            by Janet S. Tiger   
                                                (c) 2015     all rights reserved
                                                      tigerteam1@gmail.com


La- de - dah.

I think I need a professional.  I am fortunate, although our family has no doctors, we do have the supreme grace of counting as one of our own.....a professional organizer.  My sister, now retired, is a miracle worker at this type of problem.  Why not call her?  I hesitate, as I wonder if she would work with me again.  I wonder because the last time she helped me she said, 'Don't ever call me again .....unless you are serious about de-junking.'  This was just before she retired, damaged from years of working with other insane folks, I mean other people, like me.

My sister is very neat and organized - ever since she was a little girl.  And now that I need her, she has moved back to town.  Dare I call?  She is busy, it was a big move home, and she is helping with my mother and father's clean up.  Am I ready? Can I face the music and dance?  More important, do I really want to nod to another Fred Astaire song?

The discipline I used to write one monologue a day is now coming to good use.  Yet I do not want to wait a year to finish this - I need to have some clarity now.  I have nightmares - well, maybe daymares - of being buried in piles of stuff.  Perhaps the entire point of doing the monologues was to see that all can be boiled down into simplicity - one monologue a day.  It doesn't get much simpler.  

So, I must pick up the pace - I must move out more stuff.  Should I post a photo of what needs to be cleaned up?  From the past?  To show I have been working at this for awhile?

One photo shows how far I have come.  From junk to the street, I am pushed back far enough to get a car into the driveway.  But it is not enough.  The next photo shows what I see from inside my home - outside onto my driveway.  The horror!  When facing these piles, which are taller than I am (and I am not short) I am fully aware of my addiction to ......stuff.  And, unlike my son's (probably wise) idea to go cold turkey, to call up Am Vets and just let it all go, I fight the urge to purge it all.  So I will do this cleansing slowly,  on a daily basis, hopefully by sticking to it, I will make the changes stick, as I try to grow a teflon hide for all my junk. And to show that I realize that, like any addiction, after the rehab, I will have to watch myself.....forever.

How long is forever?  We are on the cusp now of living a very long time....maybe even what will effectively be forever.  Others are worried about the unimportant stuff, like how will we be able to afford to do this, and what about our health?  For me, the biggest question is....what will we do with all our stuff? 

La-de-dah.  A question for another day. More soon.  I hope that as I do more of the de-cluttering, I will be able to write.....less soon.