Going, Going, Gone

Yesterday, we spent a few hours helping Derek's sister and her family move.

Here's the great thing about helping other people move:  You get to do the easy part, the carting boxes from house to truck or truck to house, and then you leave.  You get thanks and appreciation without even having to do the sucky parts, like pack every last one of your possessions into cardboard boxes or staring wonderingly at all your stuff, trying to figure out where all this crap came from.  And don't even get me started on unpacking.  You're already tired from packing and driving and cleaning out the new space so it can be all spick and span and ready for your own family to spread its own unique brand of filth around- now you get to unpack and try to find a place for all this junk.  And by "junk," I mean the stuff belonging to every other member of your family.  Their stuff is crap.  Yours is treasure.

The other marvelous effect helping others move has on me is that when I get home, I am in hardcore purge mode.  What if we have to move soon?  Do I like all these things enough that I'd be willing to ask friends and family to move it from here to there?  Is this Thing so important to me that I want to wrap it in newspaper, put it in a box, put that box in a truck, send it on a long voyage, take the box off the truck, take the Thing out of the box, unwrap the newspaper, and find a place to store it yet again?  I mean, criminy, our children are barely worth all that work, let alone my second-best medium-sized saucepan.

That is why, last night, I could be found rummaging through our kitchen cabinets and DVDs and bathroom cupboard, looking for things to be rid of and muttering vague nothings to myself about minimalism and possibly something about the Swedish.  Are they the minimalist ones?  I can never remember.  One of those cold places with ugly modern architecture.  (I can almost promise you Derek is either wincing or pursing his lips or both right now.)


The thing is, we don't have that much excess stuff to get rid of.  I did a major, whole-house, several-month-long purge a year or two ago, the first time I read the book 7:  An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.  (Hey, guys, remember when I wouldn't stop talking about that book and peer pressured/coerced/forced all my friends to read it?  Man, that was fun.  For me.)  Loads of stuff went out our front door, and it felt incredible.  I highly recommend getting rid of your stuff.

As I went around the house last night and today, however, I realized the value in making a second pass over all your precious possessions and your family's junk:  You may be less attached to it now, you may not use it anymore, or you may pull that cast iron snowflake mini cake pan out of your kitchen cabinet and say to yourself, "Hey, Self, remember when you refused to get rid of this a year ago because you swore that this was going to be the winter you made darling little snowflake-shaped cakes dusted with powdered sugar?  This makes... what, six years in a row that that didn't happen, right?  Make your peace with a future devoid of little cakes, because this sucker is gone.  Farewell, miniature snowflake cake pan!"

Then you'll put it in the Adieu pile, and it will be like a spell breaking.  Why on earth were you so attached to that thing?  You hardly ever make cakes, anyway!  You're more of a cookie or pie kind of woman, and if you do make cakes, you use your humble 8-inch round pans like God and your Better Homes and Gardens cookbook intended!  BEGONE, SNOWFLAKE CAKE PAN.  YOUR POWER NO LONGER HOLDS SWAY HERE.

Banishment forthcoming

I'm going through the kids' toys tomorrow.  Please ignore any wailing or tearful pleading you hear issuing from our house.

Waste Not: Energy and Paper Products

As I'm not an authority on all things Energy-related by any stretch of the imagination, I'm just going to point you toward a favorite resource of mine I found on our energy provider's website:

101 Easy Ways to Save Energy

If you're an energy-saving expert, I would bet that there's at least a couple things in that link you either hadn't thought of or aren't already doing; if you're more of a novice:  Don't be overwhelmed.  We've been slowly decreasing our waste over the past several years, executing one or two new waste-reduction measures at a time.  Maybe pick one of the things in that list, and do that.  You'll find how easy it is, try something else new in a month or two, marvel at how simple these changes are and how good it feels to waste less, then before long you'll be that annoying person that sneaks into your friends' houses to install aerators on all their faucets and sorts their trash for recycling.  IT'S GONNA BE GREAT.



Now, how about a list about paper?

•   I won't talk about all the wasted paper that comes home in one of our children's backpack (SO.MUCH.PAPER.), but I will mention another of our children who, if you look at the backside of most of his preschool creations, you'll find junk mail and such the preschool teacher is obviously reusing.  How much paper do we immediately throw away after opening the mail?  I've started setting aside the paper that's only been printed on one side for our children to use, as they're heavily into coloring and painting and creative wastefulness.

• Paper towels.  This is one we've been working on decreasing, although I do still keep a roll under the sink.  My darling mother was kind enough to buy me some Norwex cleaning cloths, which I use for cleaning the bathroom sinks, mirrors, all our windows, and just about any other surface other than the toilet.  I'm ashamed to say I still use paper towels on our toilet, because I'm a little eeked out about using my fancy cloths on there, especially with three males in the house whose aim is often less than stellar.  I'm working up to using some of our cheap terry cloths on the toilets- I got them from Wal-Mart around eight years ago, and they've held up really well.  After all, if people can wash cloth diapers in the washing machine, I suppose I can handle washing a cloth used to clean our toilets.  I guess.  Probably.  We'll see.

• Napkins. We, apparently, are a nasty, nasty family, as in general we neither own nor use even paper napkins, although we do on occasion make use of those dreaded paper towels if we're eating spaghetti or pizza.  Enter cloth napkins!  If you're like me and have a fabric stash, it's the easiest thing in the world to cut them into squares and hem them.  Or you can get something like a set of 12 napkins for $12 at Wal-Mart for all you fertile Catholic families.  Cloth napkins have the added benefit of instantly making every family meal feel uber-fancy.  I suggest you obey any subsequent urges to start wearing a monocle or carrying a cane for twirling around.  (Sidenote:  it would seem that all my notions of class and fanciness come from Mr. Peanut.  I'm choosing not to ponder too deeply what this says about me.)

• Kleenex.  First of all, please be aware that I know this is where I will lose some of you.  I may not have known that three days ago, however, had I not waved around my pretty embroidered handkerchief at supper with friends and seen some of them cringe away from me in horror.  I see nothing wrong with using my handkerchief when it's for allergies or for when I'm cold or working out and my nose-faucet forgets how to turn itself off.  Rest assured, when I'm actually sick I still use disposable tissues.  (And I wash my hands a lot on a daily basis, okay?)  But really, I've watched my grandpa use a handkerchief for years, and let's be honest, the world would most likely be a much better place if everyone were a little more like Edgar Von Soosten.  I should note that I have not switched the rest of our family over to handkerchiefs.  I have mixed feelings about our children using hankies, although it would probably be more sanitary than some of the methods of snot removal they currently employ.  And you are welcome for not describing those in detail.

• Coffee Filters.  I've been looking around my house over the past week, trying to identify paper goods we can replace with their more economical and ecologically-friendly alternatives, and coffee filters was one I just noticed this morning.  I know those filters go into my compost pile when I'm done, but still- it feels more ecologically and financially sound not to purchase them in the first place.  A quick google search led me to mesh filters, which can apparently be found at Wal-Mart and on Amazon for $5 or less (or a lot more, because I guess some people just can't stand not to pay $60 for coffee filters- thanks, Sur la Table!).  Do any of you have any experience with these mesh-style filters?  Do they work okay?  Any complaints about or praise for them?  And yes, I know there are "environmentally friendly" paper coffee filters, but to me, those are still filters that are made from trees and had to be produced by some kind of machinery that uses some kind fuel to run.  I'm sure we could get into all kinds of debates regarding the worthiness of eco-friendly paper filters vs plastic-including mesh filters, but I don't know enough to possibly participate, much less win, this debate, so... someone go research that for me.  Please.

• Other stuff.  Looking around my house, the only other major sources of paper consumption appear to be toilet paper (which isn't going anywhere, okay?  Well, I suppose it is, right down the toilet, but you know- we're not getting rid of it.  We're just not.) and books, and the only way you'll suggest I switch exclusively to ebooks is if you've been searching for some passive aggressive way to end our friendship.  

Any other paper-replacing suggestions?  I have a feeling I have big blind spots where paper products are concerned, but they seem to be hiding from me, as blind spots are wont to do.  Help.