Minimalism, meet reality

November 8, 2017

I moved the furniture in my youngest’s room this morning; moved the posters on her walls around.  Got everything rearranged, cleaned out just a bit, and it’s beautiful.  So empty and peaceful.

I worked in the basement for five minutes, going through a bin of stuffed animals (the old “out of sight, out of mind” trick).  I pulled five to keep–I’m still a sucker for sentimental stuff–and filled a 13-gallon trash bag with loveys to pass on.

I weeded kids’ books yesterday and kept only the much-loved favorites.  This was met almost immediately with a request to read A Pocket for Corduroy.  Funny how favorite books can be found when you get rid of the junky stuff.

I got in the laundry room closet today…..and it was still a laundry room closet.

But here’s the thing:  the only items in that closet right now that don’t really belong are some picture frames that I want t buy mats for.  Everything else, regardless of how un-minimalist it looks, is something we use.  Not every single day, but easily every month, and absolutely every few months.

I’ve finally come to the realization that every home is going to have a bin of extra light bulbs.

Truly….I think this is something the glossy magazines don’t ever spotlight, and it’s stuff that no one likes to think about.  But I daresay that even the most minimalist home is going to have a stash of bulbs somewhere.  If they don’t, they’re going to be hanging out in the dark at some point, because bulbs don’t burn out when it’s convenient–much like smoke alarm batteries only running out at 3:00 AM.

So that closet full of “stuff” isn’t going anywhere.  It is a testament to the reality of living this life.  We use detergent, and have an iron and ironing pad.  We need a place to keep things like string and screwdrivers and my secret stash of chocolate.  I’ll do my best to keep it organized, and keep it cleaned out, but some “stuff” you just need to keep.

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Late bloomers

November 3, 2017

I thought about titling this post “Winter is coming,” but figured that might be mistaken for other topics….

Back in the spring my older daughter and I planted morning glories and moon flowers on the south side of the deck, as we do every year.  The vines grow up and over the railing until we can see them from the living room and kitchen.  Planting both gives us flowers literally all day and night; in the morning and evening we get an added show as they all are still open, together.

This year we (ahem….I) made the mistake of not thinning the flowers.  It was spring, and seedlings were popping up all over, and the whole scene was just so full of hope….I couldn’t quite bring myself to snuff out the future of a handful of plants.

Big mistake.

This year we grew huge, enormous, giant vines.  Thick, winding, tangled vines.  Vines with leaves over three inches across.  They were massive.  I finally started going out once a week with a pair of scissors to chop out the vines I couldn’t guide along the spindles and railing.  They absolutely took over.

Flowers?  Not so much.

Eventually, late in the summer, some moon flowers appeared; then more and more.  I was grateful we’d gotten at least a flurry of blooms to enjoy and wrote off the rest.

Until mid-October, when the morning glories exploded.

Dozens upon dozens of buds–hundreds, even?– appearing all over the east section of vine.  They were everywhere, and finally starting to open.

I have no idea what finally set these flowers off; why, of all times, they chose the end of October to finally show up and do their thing.  Because the end of October, in Kansas, is….fickle.  Temperamental.  Unstable.  (Actually, that’s pretty much the weather in Kansas year-round.)

Sure enough, before these ever got a chance to bloom to their fullest, we had our first hard freeze.  They hung in through one night surprisingly well, but night two, well…..it’s definitely time to put the garden to bed for the winter.

We always hear about the late bloomers, the ugly-duckling stories of the awkward and unlovely who finally show up in their lives fully and beautifully.  But what happens if you forget to show up in your life until it’s too late?  Is there such a thing as too-late of a bloomer?

What would you regret not doing if you knew “winter” was tomorrow?