Kaye’s Ode to Stuff How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the shelf and bin and bag. My stuff can bless, at the end of shopping days. For the ends of shopping and limitless cash. I love stuff to the level of every card’s Maxed out limit, no matter how obscene or rash. I love all shopping, as some love to eat. I love it always, and I shop for days. I love
The kitchen floor spread out before her, a sea of sticky spots, streaks, and small papers plastered to placed that once were sticky spots. Kaye stood there holding the broom and dustpan. “Sweeping didn’t help at all. It’s still a disgusting mess of a floor.” “What?” Jacob paused beside her and stole a kiss before continuing on his way to the family room. “I missed something.” “I swept the kitchen. Seemed like a good idea, but the floor needs to
Kaye is on another rampage. Oh, yes. It’s almost February of a new year, and that means freak-out time. So, I stole the list. The majority of it is typical–mundane even–but I got a kick out of some of it and thought you might enjoy it. Here goes: Kitchen: Scrub cabinet doors Scrub inside of cabinets Scrub inside of drawers De-junk kitchen utensils–again Figure out why we own a corkscrew when we don’t drink wine Scrub counters Eradicate appliances from
Years ago, a friend of mine and I used to order all of the recorded sessions of the CHEA (homeschool) convention. One year, we both listened to a workshop on how to create a “Reality Schedule” so much that I think I remember it breaking. The premise was that we try to pack too much into a finite schedule. So she had us create a weekly calendar with hourly slots and put in the absolutes–sleep, eat, take care of children–whatever
The closet loomed before her. Kaye stared at the door, willing it not to be as bad as her three-day-old memory declared it was. With a hand that she could have sworn trembled a little, Kaye reached for the knob. It twisted too easily for her taste. Couldn’t it have stuck so I could just put it aside for another day? That thought sent revolted churnings through her gut. Oh, get over it already. You’ve mastered the de-cluttered life. It’s
If a woman walks into a messy room to get some washi she might decide to clean it. If she starts cleaning, the first thing she might touch is her planner. She’ll stare at the boring notes page. It will need washi and accessories. Her eyes might see a container of accessories. She’ll grab it. It won’t be the right one. She’ll grab another. Ditto. When she finds the right one, she may notice that there are too many options.
The woman has issues, okay? I don’t know how else to say it. After taking her family–who am I kidding? After taking ME for a ride on her de-cluttering kick, breaking her foot, then going nuts with the planning stuff, you’d think she would have learned. Ha. She’s decided that this year is the year of the “Resolutions.” Who does she think she is? This is still the same woman who did that for the first five years of marriage–and
Let’s face it. Most of the western world has too much STUFF. And, most of us know it. We often want to de-clutter, but we can’t because we don’t have the time. Sure, there are other reasons, but the number one that I often hear is how there is no time. It’s the thing that keeps ME from it. How’s 15 minutes a day. Fifteen minutes. Almost all of us can cut 15 minutes from our schedule. Shorter shower, bring
WOOHOO! Congratulations… PAIGE! (sweet…) I’ll be emailing you in a few minutes. If I don’t hear back with an address by “Christmas Cain” (the day after Christmas), I will have to redraw for a new winner so that the winner gets her planner before New Year’s Day!
Look, the Author likes to pretend that this is all about her mocking me for my so-called “Crazy Obsession” with planning and scrapbooking. The fact that I can combine both now is fabulous in my opinion. But I digress. The fact is, she’s just as nutty about it as I am. The woman owns like four planners in addition to the Inkwell LiveWell Planner that she’s giving away this week. That’s right GIVING AWAY. We all know she’s kind of