Too Much Stuff

 

I knew my cousin was visiting Ireland from NZ sometime this summer and was hoping she might visit. Even so, I was surprised to read yesterday that she was en route to Belfast. It must be summer already. I look out the window at the wreckage of my once-lovely garden. I gaze around my house - at grubby windows, spider's webs, clutter. I need to look lively and there is only one thing to do - get on the internet and research decluttering sites.

The first one advises to approach the problem room by room. I've tried that before and it doesn't work. The stuff just get pushed around from room to room. A second site goes for a whole house approach, the first step being to remove clutter from every room starting at the top of the house. I've not tried that before so I'll give it a go. 

End of day report. I have removed clutter from two spare bedrooms and got halfway through my bedroom. There are two bin bags of clothing and two boxes of books in the boot of the car for recycling and there are seven boxes of unsorted stuff on the landing.

I spent 90 minutes (between downpours) in the garden mostly hacking and sweeping. Two full barrowloads of compost material have been removed and 12 potentilla Miss Willmott discovered and potted on. Don't know where I'm going to put them but hey-ho, problem for another day. 

I just have too much stuff and too many plants and that leads to cobwebs and weeds. See that blanket in the pictures above. I bought that in Camerons decades ago. It dates from a time when I had hardly any disposable income and I spent about £25 on it. Of course, I still have it. The young lady in the photograph is grown up now, and sweet little Polly dog is long gone. In the second photograph, there is Holly de Cat (no longer with us) and a ridiculous fabric teddy that I picked up in a charity shop. It had no eyes, I was going to give it eyes, but never did and eventually, donated it back to a charity shop. The black bear, Boris from Hamleys (no relation) I bought from a stall in the original Fair Hill half a lifetime ago. I still have him. I'm not sure why. 

Tomorrow I hope to get rid of the contents of my car boot and clear the landing and, Oh God! you should see the attic...

Anyway, here is another one of my carefully positioned photographs of a literal corner of my yard that makes it look as if this place is lovely.

Bonnie's Stuff

Bonnie, March 2009

Bonnie came to us as a neglected and unloved dog who had lived her life on the end of a chain. Her collar, a stiff, cracked old thing, had chafed all the fur from underneath her chin. She was matted and smelly and very timid. The first thing we did when we knew we would be keeping her was to give her a bath. Afterwards, I wrapped her in old towels and covered her with a woolen blanket. She seemed baffled by the attention but not unhappy. As soon as I could I bought her a new collar, soft leather, and bright red. She seemed pleased with it and wore it the entire time she was with us. I kept it for a long time after she died but eventually disposed of it.

That was her first possession. She never 'got' balls. Her thing was squeaky toys. She loved them even after she had carefully detached squeaker and eyes. I kept her stuff in a straw basket and every night she'd take them all out item by item. And the first thing out of the basket was always the plastic Santa Claus. Bonnie really did like her stuff.

Bonnie, in January 2012. 

Work & Stuff

Bonnie wishes it was five o'clock. Friday was a whole week in dog years

Last Friday I took Bonnie to work with me. I knew it was going to be a quiet day and I fancied having some company. She did enjoy the lunchtime walk in Tardree Forest but I’m afraid the other part of the day was not a success. She has decided that the office environment is not the place for her. It is much too boring. From this Monday onwards she will be resuming her usual occupation - Polytunnel Security and General Cat-Bothering.

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Before coming to us Bonnie had spent most of her life chained up. She did not know how to play and did not understand the concept of playthings. All she had to call her own then was a battered and cracked leather collar. Eventually I got round to replacing this rough collar with another one in soft red leather. Maybe I only fancied it, but I'm sure she was pleased to get rid of that stiff old leather collar that had, over time, rubbed off all the hair under her chin.

For a long time her new collar was her only possession. She wasn't interested in balls or toys. It took her nearly a year before she properly learned how to have fun.

Then, while clearing out Pearlie's stuff, we came across The Squeaky Cracker and Bonnie took possession of it. No other dog dared look at it. That was the beginning of Bonnie having ‘stuff’. She’s got a pile of stuff now. Squeaky toys are her special favourites. Her soft toys must not have hard plastic noses or eyes. These will be carefully gnawed off. The Squeaky Cracker is still the number one toy and it is kept on my bed. If she can’t find it she frets. Sometimes I think she was actually more carefree when she didn’t have all this ‘stuff’ to worry about.

Pruck

People take different approaches to organising their stuff. One thing is constant - the more stuff a body owns, the harder that stuff is to organise.

We knew somebody once cleared his house regularly. His credo was - if he hadn't used it in the past year out it went.

Stuff can take you over. The trick is if you bring new stuff in then heave the equivalent amount of stuff out. Easier said than done.

Which brings me back to the Auntie Fungus problem. She is one of those people, as is her partner, to whom stuff flies like iron filings to a magnet. Got some unwanted stuff - Auntie Fungus will have that. The end result is that her house contains so much stuff that there is no room for a normal life to take place. Sit at the table to eat a meal? Impossible. The table is stacked high with stuff. Prepare a meal? Not possible. Food consists of uncooked items; the current favourite being scallion sandwiches. Neighbours do provide plated food but that is mostly fed to the collies.

Auntie Fungus has never thrown out a loaf paper in her life. There are tens of thousands of loaf papers stacked to the ceiling. What Hannah couldn't get over was the wall of cushions. Most people use cushions to add a little comfort to their lives. Auntie Fungus builds walls with cushions. Polystyrene carry out containers? Auntie Fungus never parts with these useful items. She'd use them under plant pots if she had room for plants.

I'd guess Auntie Fungus hasn't a clue what is in the boxes and bags of stuff that she has piled high to the ceiling. Somewhere in there, and it may never be found, is her mother's wedding ring. The same wedding ring that caused a massive fall-out with her sister Pearlie many, many years ago.

Stuff. Wedding rings. Loaf papers. Cushions. Nice wee tins. Buttons. Old magazines. Odds and ends of wool. Bits of scrap metal. Old clothes. Patchwork quilts. Books that we'll never open again. Clutter. Yours is shite. Mine is treasure.

What Is It For?

Bert found this little object in one of the sheds. It's like a miniature anvil. Anyone know what it might have been used for? We thought it might have been used in making jewellery. It is around 4 inches high.