no more belts

I've embarked on a de-cluttering, down-sizing campaign in the house. Several friends have offered this advice: if you think there's ANY possibility of moving, start NOW to sort, toss, organize, de-clutter and toss some more. Because it will take a lot longer than you can imagine.

We're on year 25 in our house and poor Bill is on the receiving end of my rants to SIMPLIFY. What is it with men? He seems very lukewarm about the whole idea but I'm telling you, the massive overhaul of our stuff is going to take awhile.

I've made a list to break down areas of the house. Closets (many), garage, files, laundry shelf (I have a laundry closet, not a room), and the biggest junk-collectors of all, the BASEMENT and CRAWL SPACE. I don't care to ever have a basement again since it's just a convenient place to put stuff we don't use: furniture, books, sewing machines, toys to be passed on, camping equipment, my mother-in-law's treasures, and Christmas stuff. No lie, we could easily let go of 90% of the basement.

Being in charge of the house, I made a rule a few years ago. As each of the kids moved out permanently (ie, marriage and/or house), they had to take all their stuff: baseball cards, school and sports memorabilia, clothing, etc. It worked like a charm with the boys, but daughter isn't permanently settled yet. And does she have the STUFF!

Oh and a side project is now on the dining room table: organizing 30 years of photographs. Can you spell O-V-E-R-W-H-E-L-M-I-N-G???

In an effort to self-motivate, I'm tackling easy areas first. Yesterday was the back door closet. This morning was our closet. Over the last couple years, I've whittled my wardrobe down to a minimalist level and to tell you the truth, it's wonderful. How much clothing do I really need? Liberating!

I did discover something that reminded me of my age: belts. The middles of middle aged women thicken, they just do. And a belt on a thick waist, if you ask me, resembles a cord around a flour sack. I mean, what's the point of calling attention to my grandma waist? I birthed four children for crying out loud, so I accept it and move on.

So out go the belts. And the unused shoes and sweaters. And on goes my campaign to simplify! I give you permission to ask me how it's going!

a sweet day at home

Long ago, when the children were young,

I would try very hard to carve out a day to be at home.

Totally at home.

Not an errand

not a run to the store

no appointments.

As they got older,

I found it almost impossible to achieve a day at home.

This has turned into a busy week

and today was my only day at home for the whole week.

Mothers at home with tiny ones who nap and eat often

and so must stay home a lot

don't understand this

but they will someday.

Days at home, if rare, are so sweet and ... productive!

Introverts, I think, especially love to be at home. I do.

Today I finished writing an article that's due soon.

Watered the flowers.

Made granola. And part of tomorrow's dinner.

And did laundry. And read my Bible.

It's amazing what can be accomplished when you stay home all day.

Try it if you can.

home

Delaware at dusk

"Where is home?" You've heard this question. You might consider "home" as the town where you were born and/or grew up. Adults saying, "I'm going home for Christmas" sounds foreign to me because home is here, where we live and raised our children.

I don't claim a hometown and neither does my husband. This town, Delaware, Ohio, has been our home for 22 years, by far the longest either of us has lived anywhere.

I attended four different elementary schools in three states and moved again in the middle of high school, so I don't have an attachment to any school or town. Finally, my parents moved again when I was a freshman in college, ironically back to the city of my birth. I had no real friends there, having left at age 7. There was no going "home" for high school or family reunions.

Bill and I chose to give our kids something we never had: a childhood in one place where friends and memories and family times would all be rolled into one treasure chest rather than a series of moves and new towns.

Some might think a small town in the midwest to be boring. No mountains, no beaches, longer winters than in the south. But there is a quiet, understated beauty in the century-old homes and farms, lush cornfields, summer produce stands and excitement over a snow storm in our little town. Kids still deliver the local newspaper by bike. The downtown is more vibrant than ever, with shops and an independent movie theater. I almost always run into someone I know when I go to the grocery or library. Bill and I have an understanding: if either of us is running late, we don't worry. We know the other probably ran into someone we know and took time for a chat.

Funny. I always thought I'd want to "get out of here" once our kids were grown. But for now I am content. I am ... home.

... I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.

Philippians 4:11