(Decluttering in) The land of tea

I am currently in the land of tea - and discovering that you can continue to declutter one item a day even whilst travelling! I had intended to simply suspend the one-a-day rule whilst on the move but no - when travelling, I use different bags and purses and things. I find clutter. I remove it. Ta da. It feels good. I'm finding as I go on that it gets easier and easier to let things go, and I feel more comfortable with the things that are left.

In one of the decluttering blogs/videos I have been perusing - I can't remember where, if anyone reading knows please let me know and I will add a link - I came across the idea that clutter talks. Clutter speaks to you. You allow stuff to become clutter because you can't or don't want to make a decision about what to do with it, so you put it down and every time you walk past it, it says: 'I'm here! I'm still here! You need to [read/file/respond to/find a home for/get rid of/etc] me!' At first, this is a quiet reminder but it builds, and the more things you have, the more your home or work space becomes a cacophony of reminders for things you need to deal with. It becomes overwhelming, so you switch off, go away, or focus on something else. The chorus of chaos continues.

Each item that I am decluttering - however small or seemingly insignificant - simultaneously removes one voice, one instrument, one (dis)harmony from that orchestra of mental as well as physical clutter, and at the same time makes me feel more confident about my ability to deal with everything else. 

I'm now beginning to wonder what it would feel like to reach 'clutter silence'? To have no more reminders that I am avoiding? The first time I thought about having nothing left on my 'to do' list, no more superfluous stuff in my life, it was utterly terrifying. What would be left? But now I find it increasingly intriguing. When everything else gets taken away, what is left will be - me. And the things that are most important to me. I'm quite curious to see what that feels like.

But I don't think I'm quite ready for that yet. One step at a time.

Picture from Wikipedia.

Sunday morning

Homemade scones and a fresh pot of tea. Is there a better way to start a busy Sunday?

Week 7: The kitchen surfaces

I'm not sure how much this particular bit counts, as I wasn't so much decluttering as reorganising. There was no food that needed throwing out, but the new layout is much tidier and keeps the counter top much clearer, giving us more work space and also making it easier to wipe down the surfaces and keep it all lovely and clean.

Lazy weekend and Brussels tea shops

Don't you think this is just the best way to start a lazy day? Long weekends - how I love them. And again, this little picture marks something of my journey towards a handmade life - the bread is homemade, the tea is loose-leaf organic in a handmade, hand-painted mug. And what is it about the tray that brings it all together somehow?

Holidays!

Ah. Half term. No classes. Such would be bliss enough. But no! There is more. For I have returned for a few days to the house of my parents. Who have an OVEN, ladies and gentleman, an actual functioning oven which can be used for baking. They also have - wait for it! - baking ingredients in the cupboard. Decent quality ones. Which I haven't paid for.

So, naturally, the list of thing To Do has been thoroughly ignored in favour of baking ginger biscuits. I am usually more of a cake person, but these are truly lovely biscuits. I can't believe I've never had a go at ginger biscuits before. Add to this copious amounts of tea made in an actual tea pot, some hot ginger drink for my cold, a good book and no inconsiderable amount of time listening to the robins chattering to one another outside, and you have a definitively Good Day (TM). This is now being polished with a bowl of homemade soup, after which I shall go into London to meet my mother and wander around a museum, before meeting the rest of the family for a birthday dinner.

Would someone please tell me how today could get any better? Oh yeah, that's right. I've got tomorrow to look forward to, as well. I hope you are enjoying February as much as I am!

On feet, and the worship thereof

So half an hour ago, the world was a terrible place. Oh woe, cried I, woe and thrice woe! I was exhausted, having spent three times as long as normal coming home from school because I had to skate up an iced-over footpath for several klicks. This meant my afternoon was effectively non-existent, and I only had time to go to a cash point, discover that my account has been blocked (AGAIN), and then get to the bank 3 minutes after closing. And let's not even mention the housemates (male) who apparently think that the dishwasher is loaded and unloaded by a pixie who lives in the still-not-replaced-lightbulb in the kitchen. (Whoops - too late!)

But then - ah, then! - I washed my feet. It's such a small thing, but somehow washing your feet in soap and hot water, massaging in some scavenged remnants of body lotion and following this with a newly clean pair of socks makes the world brighter. Suddenly, I'm drinking a cup of tea and remembering all the good things that happened today: the brilliant lesson with the 4th before lunch, signing on to a distance-learning course on the history of the English Country House, and (weirdly) waking up BEFORE my alarm clock went off this morning. (Does anyone else love doing that? I just hate the jolting-awake-panic-what-is-being-killed reaction I get when the alarm goes off. I feel it is the legacy of early morning fire drills/alarms at boarding school.)

The contents of my shopping basket today: bread, milk, two tomatoes and a cabbage. I won't tell you how excited I was at how much cabbage you can get for €1,49.

Little things

Long time, no blog.

I have been thinking recently about how much difference the little things make. As Sherlock Holmes says in the new film (which was *ahem* rather creative with the original characters), the little details can be the most important.

In this case, the things that have cheered me up in the last few days have included: polishing my boots with half an onion (woohoo! No need to buy polish), drinking multiple cups of tea after The Day There Was No Milk Anywhere, and beginning to crochet a blanket with the wool in my bag. Why is that, whatever is on my mind, I feel an immense sense of peace as soon as I pick up a hook? The world somehow makes sense when I'm crocheting. I don't care about the large pile of marking, the current state of my finances and the fact that all the people I care most about in the world feel terribly far away from me (yes, I know, it's no distance at all really, but it feels far).

Partly the black cloud is due to the natural response to a fantastic Christmas/New Year period, full of family and old friends and dangerous things like elderberry gin. The fun times were paced out by volunteer work for Crisis at Christmas, which was immensely rewarding and thought-provoking. It really makes me appreciate what I have, and it's definitely something I'll be doing again.

Anyway, I'm off to rearrange things and otherwise pretend to myself that I'm busy. I wish you all a productive January!