On Wednesday, the spirit of decluttering struck me, promptly in the middle of the workday. It was a bit of a What The Hell-moment, if I can be totally honest. As it’s fairly obvious that I was powerless to do anything about it in that moment, I actioned a To Do list of sorts to clear my head. And then I tucked it into my planner.
I like to think that we keep an appropriately clean house.
But when The Universe directs you to wipe down your baseboards and dust and windex all surfaces (cabinets and windows included) and sweep the laundry room, you do those things.
And it is centering. To a certain extent.
But once all of that was done, I knew we were not finished yet.
So Marcus and I tackled things like the mysterious pile of boxes in the corner of the garage. The old suitcases lurking beneath the boxes, one of which ironically had $20 tucked into it.
We addressed the fact that we are apparently lightbulb hoarders.
Marcus informs me that the reason we have so many is because every light in the house needs a different bulb and purchasing the multi-packs Makes Sense.
You will not get an argument from me on that one.
We re-arranged the laundry room cabinets and organized the contents of the giant box of 3M products that had taken up residence in the guest bedroom.
We threw away things like the old, broken doorknob from the garage door that was saved for reasons unknown.
We unearthed the printer we added to our wedding registry that we never bothered to unpack or install.
It was quite the archaeological dig. I sincerely wish that we would have thought to take some before pictures because there was some heinous stuff going on.
In case you thought at that point we were thoroughly exhausted (we were) and ready to call it quits (we were not), read on.
Because I dealt with Le Jardin.
I know that for the past few years we’ve done things like basil (always basil), tarragon, parsley, sage, cilantro and tomatoes. But this year we’re going to be out-of-town for a couple of Important Weeks in the growing/harvesting season, so it made no sense to grow edible plants that we were never going to…eat.
While the rest of the neighbors have been actioning planters for the last month or so, we have been dragging our feet. So Le Jardin? On the list.
The end result, care of the Lowe’s Garden Center, is a variety of annuals and our first-ever hanging basket.
I found myself in a conversation with a sorority sister over brunch yesterday where we were discussing splitting Hostas, so my life is basically over at this point.
See also: I suspect that I’m going to need to learn how to prune in the coming days. Our association is cutting down all of the diseased trees in our neighborhood, which means that a massive tree disguising all of the extremely mediocre landscaping on the side of our house will be going down.
That it will be displacing the Mourning Doves, The Bunny Nest, and The Angry Red-Winged Blackbird That I Secretly Love is another issue entirely.
For today it is more than enough.