Sumer Fridays 2013: Yarn & Order, Book 'Em Nettie

Maybe it's just me, and/or a sign of my years, but in order to keep track of all the various projects and deadlines I have going in various parts of my life, I've had to create and--more importantly--post lists of all the various things that I would like to accomplish. Like my annual holiday timeline, this list is posted in a very visible spot in my kitchenette and it serves as a constant reminder of things I should or could be doing, instead of goofing off on say, the Internet.

list c. June 2013

By the end of last year, the two-sided list for 2012 was full of annotations, cross-outs, and check-offs, but there were still things I didn't get done. Some of those items carried over to the 2013 list, and were supplemented by new goals, projects, and things to-do.

We're half way through 2013 now, not to mention all the way through June, with its Summer Fridays and Miscellaneous Mondays, and my 2013 list does not have nearly enough things crossed off.

On my most recent Summer Friday, however, I tackled one of the biggest, and long over-due projects -- The Shelves. New York studios are not known for their spaciousness, so you have to be creative with storage and judicious about adding to various collections. For me, that means yarn, media, books, and various collectibles live in the same scarce shelf space, and it was time to reorganize, alphabetize, shift, and cull. The catalyst was that I really needed to find room to integrate nine volumes of this blog printed out into book format ... 

Then there is also the fact that I keep an inventory list in Excel, of materials listed by type, author, publication date, genre, and locations on my own shelves that needed updating since I did it last in 2010/11?

Yes. I'm that person! Hello!? Have you met me? I am a librarian. If my own isn't organized, they may revoke my card. (Which reminds me--I owe annual dues.)

First, everything not a regular "book" had to come off and be put into various type piles, and then alpha/author rows came down to be dusted, inventoried, and then either re-ordered or culled. (It was also laundry day, thus the bed stripped of linens down to the bare mattress. The house was totally a mess of stuff drying or all over the place. The "Rs" could have interrupted my ZZZs if I didn't finish.)

At first things went quickly. The first two shelves saw me getting rid of 18 books. But after that, it was slow going ... At one point I thought it was going to be the death of me and I sent out a message to the effect of: If you don't hear from me later and they find my body under piles of paper/shelves, please tell my nieces/nephews I loved them very much. But then I buckled down again.

I usually do little culls as I go along i.e. one book in, one book out, but it got away from me in the last year or so, especially recently with a collection of ARCs, new/growing scrapbooks, and the new blog books. The design trend lately is to organize bookshelves by color, but that would make me CRAZY. As it is I have two authors out of alpha order and I itch. Of course, it's because those two authors need two-three shelves each ... That's totally normal, yes? It's not an obsession, it's a collection.

After: 3 of the 4, Cameo by Maxxie

Part of why it took all day was because I was dusting, reorganizing, editing the spreadsheet, doing research on Amazon.com, Wikipedia, and Goodreads, adding to my wish lists for missing pieces of the collection/replacements for VHS to new formats, and then sending out e-mails to people to see if they would take things off my hands. (Only one taker for one of the 30+ items that eventually need new homes!)

One more Summer Friday down - one more thing off the list. I've got to tackle the clothes collections later ... I'm scared. Two bureaus, two closets, 2 under bed storage buckets ... Two summer months to go.

Thanksgiving Throw-out on Memory Lane

Part of my Thanksgiving jaunt included the "forced" purging of many boxes of belongings from my parents’ attic. My folks are slowly winnowing down the mass accumulation of five people who spent almost 30 years in a post-Victorian American four-square. Our “stuff” is crammed into every nook and cranny of that house. Now that my parents are retired empty-nesters, they are thinking ahead to when they down-size and relocate to warmer climes nearer their grandchildren. While a good deal of my furniture and quite a few trunks remain in the basement and the garage, I am making pace with the five-year cleaning plan that is underway. Somehow my brothers are spared this process. I think it is because they are thousands of miles away, and don’t seem to care as much about their “stuff.”

On previous visits I have spent hours shredding paystubs from college, shaking my head over the paltry wages that were my work-study financial aid. Copious binders of college notes, handouts, and papers also went in the shredder. College textbooks were donated to the library. Childhood toys were passed on to needy kids. My maid of horror … er… honor bridesmaids dresses went off to Goodwill to amuse future bargain hunters. (Sorry gals, I never did manage to wear those taffeta creations again, no matter how hard you tried to be nice.) I thought I had made good progress, so I was befuddled as to what the heck was in eight to ten boxes Mom had earmarked for me to go through this time.

Under the light of one dim bulb and in the shivering cold of an un-insulated attic, I quickly managed to edit down more of my past. This time I discarded the remainder of my college papers and notes. I found a file with paystubs from my first “real” job, where I learned that if "you have time to lean, you have time to clean." I winnowed three crates of piano/choral music down to one. More books were earmarked for donation, along with various ceramic figurines and stuffed animals. I was ruthless. Peter Walsh would have been so proud of me.

I didn’t really slow down, however, until I found two small battered cardboard boxes. These were the real “memory boxes,” ones that had been hidden away in the dark recesses of the attic. Creased into the masking tape and peppered throughout the papers were cinders from two chimney fires that have threatened the house over the years. I had discovered a treasure trove from my high school years. In addition to my SAT paperwork, Soviet-era rubles and Communist-paraphernalia from my trip to the U.S.S.R., I found my high school diploma and various letter pins--like the one for the National Honor Society. (How did I forget that I belonged to the National Honor Society?) I also found those Broadway Playbills from the trip to Les Miz and Phantom, along with the choral arrangements, mentioned here. Seriously. Look!

(I wonder how much I can get for them on eBay?)

Some of the scariest finds in that archaeological dig were the junior high school yearbooks and all of the photos of the 1980s hair. Those incriminating documents will be locked away and only shown to those implicated on those pages with me, and you know who you are. What really amused me were those inscriptions that my classmates wrote in those yearbooks. You know those inscriptions; the “Have a great Summer!” or “You’re a great friend” notes? The ones to me went more like:

• “Stay the same over the summer (strange!)”;
• “{Auntie Nettie} You are a very strange! But nice friend.”;
• “Hi {Auntie Nettie} You’re a little weird. Only kidding.” [I don't think she was!];
• and “I will miss your stupid ‘smart’ remarks.”

Apparently, even in junior high school I was known for my odd sense of humor. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

I brought those boxes and a few more home with me to New York. I’ll be going through them bit by bit, and suspect that they’ll be a source for many a blog entry in the upcoming months.

Stay tuned for more trips down memory lane.