Turns Out I Have a Few More Random Topics in My System

One of my worst habits is picking up my phone when I wake up in the wee hours of the morning. Last night, I opened up my email to see a 30% off offer from Athleta, which is irresistible because I love their athleisure. (I still don’t know if it’s pronounced Ath-leh-tuh, like “lettuce” or Ath-LEE-tuh, like “athlete.” I want very badly for it to be the latter, but I don’t know.) I already have so many pairs of high-rise leggings, but they are so comfy… and maybe one more pair would ease the emptiness in my soul, especially in the dark green, and especially if I also get this matching sweatshirt.

Okay, I’m just kidding. My soul is full of (mainly) love and light. But I do sometimes get into that mindset of This One Specific Thing Will Fix Me.

Speaking of which, I cannot stop thinking about this sweatshirt.

image from evereve.com

I saw it in person when I was doing a little light shopping with a friend while our kids were at an event. A person in my circle happened to be in the same store and was chatting with us while I perused the clothing. When I held up this sweatshirt and said, mostly joking, “I think I need an après ski sweatshirt,” she said, “No, no one needs that.” in what I can only call a Tone of Intense Derision. DO I need this sweatshirt? No, I most certainly do not. And yet my reaction to her comment was one of visceral opposition and defiance. I managed to tamp it down in the moment – again, I do not need this sweatshirt – but I still want the sweatshirt, and more so after I was scolded about it. It’s probably not financially wise to buy things out of spite, though.

You know what is the opposite of spiteful? Holiday cards. How about that masterful segue, huh??? I have said it many times but holiday cards are my favorite thing about the season. I would forego all gifts in a hot second, but I would never want to give up exchanging holiday cards.

It is quite difficult to get a photo of my cards while still keeping everyone’s faces anonymous. So you get to look at this adorable Christmas dogs card while kind of getting a *feel* for the cards on my wall.

This year, there seem to be far fewer cards on my wall than in years past, when they have wrapped around the entire perimeter of the kitchen. This is slightly concerning. Obviously my main worry is that I have been blacklisted from people’s holiday card lists, for reasons unbeknownst to me. When the more likely scenario is that a) cards are expensive and b) stamps are HELLA expensive and c) Thanksgiving was late this year, so I think some people are late in sending out their cards. I only just got my last few cards into the mail yesterday, so I clearly don’t have a leg to stand on. More cards will arrive, and I will leave them up until my husband gets annoyed enough by their presence to badger me into taking them down.

His big concern with my tendency to stick cards on the walls is that the sticky tack I use won’t come off. I have always pooh poohed that fear because it always comes off. But… last year I may have left the cards up a wee bit too long… and some of the sticky tack may have pulled off a wee bit of paint. Whoopsie. This year I am using a different brand, one that is also nearer the grey of our paint.

If you were concerned that my husband’s stocking was going to be woefully empty compared to everyone else’s, allow me to lay your fears to rest. Last night, we went to Barnes & Noble on our date night, as we do, and he spent a long time examining this book. He doesn’t usually read books in print, because of limited time, but he was seriously considering this one. It has an intriguing premise, and it’s smallish (just over 200 pages) and it has a visual element that is unusual and appealing. He looked it up on Goodreads and told me that the author’s previous book was more highly rated, but, alas, not available in the store. So during my middle-of-the-night non-sleeping, I ordered the previous book for him, along with a book of dad jokes (he’d also spent quite a lot of time lingering over a dad jokes calendar, and he loves telling dad jokes, and this book can be delivered before Christmas so it was an easy add-on). Now I am REALLY DONE BUYING THINGS.

While a lot of people, I expect, will spend this weekend baking wonderful treats and going to holiday parties, I am planning to spend my weekend TIDYING. The Christmas decor, which I love, is already beginning to close in on me. There’s the tree, which takes up space, and the necessity of moving one of the armchairs into the piano room, which makes that room crowded (there’s STILL an old couch in there as well) (also we got a concrete coffee table for the sunroom and that’s in the piano room too). Plus there is detritus on every surface – like a tin of peppermints from someone at my husband’s office, and the replacement Hanukkah pajamas I mentioned in my last post, still in their bag, and a plate of Christmas cookies, and some gift receipts, and a winter-themed tie someone gave my husband, and the two holiday letters I received from friends that I have read but am not ready to discard yet – in addition to the normal random assortment of glasses and water bottles and cat fur and tweenager flotsam and mail. Of course, there are also BOXES EVERYWHERE (the instant I break down a box and put it into the recycling bin, another box appears) because the cat loves boxes, and he also loves the brown packing paper that comes in the boxes (his version of “These Are a Few of My Favorite Things” would just be “brown paper packages, brown paper packages, brown paper packages” on repeat), and he loves to leap on the packing paper and tear it with his teeth and leave little crumbs of paper everywhere.

The Instagram algorithm, intuiting my Christmas claustrophobia, served me a video of an advice vlogger answering someone’s question about Christmas with her mother-in-law. The gist was that the writer-inner’s mother-in-law had decreed that Christmas was over at noon on Christmas Day, and so promptly at noon she started putting away all the Christmas décor, and insisted the writer-inner help. It took them five hours to put away all the ornaments and lights and the tree, and the writer-inner was upset that THAT was how she’d spent her first Christmas with her new husband and his family. She was anticipating the same thing this year, and wanted help from the advice giver.

Oh, how deeply do I empathize with the mother-in-law! I, too, reach a point at which I am simply Done with Christmas, and when I get there, I want it all to be whisked away immediately. This is one of the reasons that I refuse to decorate for Christmas before December 1. I want to enjoy the decorations, not feel stifled by them. I do typically leave them up until at least New Year’s Day, though. Even if I’m gritting my teeth by the end.

By the way, the advice given was a) see if you can change the holiday arrangement so that you spend Christmas Eve with the in-laws and Christmas Day with your family, rather than swapping every-other-Christmas Day with each family and, if that’s a no-go, b) simply agree that Christmas ends at noon on Christmas Day, and depart the in-laws’ house at that time. I don’t know about how this would go over with your family, but I just cannot imagine doing either of these things with my family of origin or my in-laws. Our families don’t even swap Christmases that often! But if we did, the swap would need to be Exactly Even. And I also cannot imagine simply opting out of what sounds like a family tradition of putting Christmas away, even if it SUCKED. But then again, I am not always the greatest at setting boundaries so maybe the advice giver has it right.

Anyway, I am going to spend this weekend tidying as much as I possibly can (GOODBYE, latest crop of boxes!), and doing laundry, and giving myself a clean-if-cluttered slate from which to begin two weeks of family togetherness.

I am also going to try out a new hair crème, which I discovered after Instagram presumed (rightly!) that I would be interested in something called “glass hair.” None of my efforts at improving my skin with expensive products have worked, but surely I can have the hair of my dreams if I just buy This One Specific Hair Crème. (I had a gift card.)

image from amazon.com

Satisfying Project: Craft Cupboard Cleanout

Time kept slipping past, and I kept feeling completely AGAINST decorating for Christmas. Yet I knew that decorating would a) allow me to check off another box on the ol’ To Do List and b) might help rachet up the level of holiday cheer around here. And I DO like to decorate for Christmas, preferably before Christmas Day arrives. Yet… another day would pass, and I still couldn’t bring myself to decorate.

Finally I figured out what my issue was. My house is a MESS. There are boxes everywhere (neither my husband nor I can bring ourselves to throw away any of the 15 perfectly good boxes we have received from various companies and relatives; it is the pickle jar situation all over again) (do you ever receive a box that is a certain or unusual shape and size and find yourself thinking, “Oh, THAT is a GOOD box.” No? Just me?) and the detritus of my holiday card mailing project was strewn all over the kitchen table and Carla’s LEGO advent calendar (which is darling, by the way; one of the items she opened is a tiny LEGO hamster!!!) is set up on the island, and all of this accumulated junk has prevented me from doing my normal weekly cleaning of the downstairs. And I just COULDN’T BEAR to a) add more clutter to the clutter or b) put up hard-to-clean-around decorations on top of ALREADY DUSTY surfaces. I just couldn’t do it.

So! In a burst of cleanliness, which we have learned never to ignore lest they disappear and never return, I sprang into action! I hauled the vacuum up from the basement! I got out the dusting materials! I moved all the boxes into my office, which is Box Storage Central and I hate it but what can you do. (I even managed to recycle a box! No – TWO boxes!) I consolidated all the holiday card stuff and moved it up to my husband’s office. I wiped down the kitchen table. 

Once I had cleared limited the clutter, I could begin a Regular Clean, which includes scrubbing the sinks, wiping down counters and cabinets and appliances, dusting, and washing/vacuuming the floors. 

And then I had to stop, because construction paper was hanging out of the bottom of the white craft cabinet in the hallway. (I specify white because we have a greenish piece of furniture in the kitchen that is ALSO a craft cabinet. This will become relevant shortly.) I unwisely pulled on the scrap, and more construction paper followed it onto the floor, along with some bits of cardboard, a few googly eyes, a feather, two colored pencils, an empty Ziploc bag, and a small piece of pipe cleaner. Sigh. 

Well, cleaning the craft cupboards is completely unnecessary to being able to do any other cleaning, and yet I have been meaning to do it, and Carla was upstairs occupied by Virtual School, and I KNEW it would feel good once it was done. So I dove right in, Internet. Just plugged my nose and leapt right on in there.

I was so intent on diving right in that I forgot to take a Before Picture of the white craft cabinet. I guess here is a photo of the right side cleaned out but the left side in progress.

Please believe me when I say that both sides were CRAM JAMMED with crap when I first began this project. This is already IMMEASURABLY more tidy. Not just immeasurable because you have no starting point against which to measure it.

And here are two photos of the cabinets (and floor) mid-clearout.

I am deeply concerned about that orchid up there on the left. But I have no ability to repot it, and it already rebloomed one (TWO YEARS after it first bloomed) and so I keep hoping in a very Jurassic Parkian manner that life will find a way. Oh right, the mess. SO MUCH crumpled construction paper!
Construction paper cellophane wrap and paper scraps and half-colored coloring pages and bits of string and an ENTIRE PAD of white drawing paper with purple scribbles on each page.

Carla supposedly keeps construction paper in these cabinets, but I found that she was also using it for storing… other things. (See above RE: googly eyes, pipe cleaner bits, string, etc.) So I remedied that right away and now it only holds paper or paper-adjacent items: cardstock, watercolor paper, etc. 

I took this photo after I had started decorating for Christmas.

I threw away a LOT of Projects, which always makes me feel bad. And then I was left with a bunch of things that still needed homes, like a bunch of markers and a bag full of pompoms and googly eyes. Things that belong in the OTHER craft cabinet.

Onward, to the green craft cabinet!

Looks unassuming, doesn’t it? Although that little corner of white paper peeking out hints at the chaos within. Note the boxes on either side: the left side box has wrapped presents in it, and is destined for the post office. The right side box is actually two Amazon boxes tucked into one another, waiting to be shifted to my office and then, hopefully, into the recycling. (We all know they will end up in the basement.)

Now, brace yourself.

This is how it looked to begin with. Your classic Monica Geller’s Closet situation, amirite?

I bet you had no idea one small piece of furniture could contain so much debris. And yes, those ARE a random scrap of green paper and the plastic top of a pen package stuck to the door.

It took a surprisingly long time to divest the cabinet of its contents.

Like, over an hour just to REMOVE things, let alone do any organizing. 

Carla is, it turns out, extremely skilled at stuffing a piece of furniture more full of things than its creator could possibly imagine. 

One might think that it would be good parenting to have CARLA come and clean out this cabinet. After all, it is her domain. Everything inside it is for her use, and it falls under her management, day-to-day. So you might think that it would be best if she were involved, both in undertaking and understanding the amount of work required in cleaning it, and in reorganizing it. And of course you would be correct. BUT Carla is incapable of throwing things away. (With box and pickle jar hoarders for parents, it’s so very hard to understand WHY she is this way.) Discussing whether to throw away every single scrap of paper would, I’m sure, have resulted in many tears and plaintive bargaining and extreme desolation. So I did it myself and I am fine with it.

Barely half way done. And a garbage bag is already full to brimming.

Surprising findings: a spoon that I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for, a Tupperware container, the instructions to Carla’s Snap Circuits kit, three pairs of scissors, two small silver washers, a nut (the hardware kind), and many, many pens. 

I threw out several containers of very dry, crusty Playdoh. I threw out many broken crayons (I know there are creative people who would turn those broken bits into Something but I was in purging mode not creative thinking mode, and I did not want to get derailed). I threw out a bunch of parts to old Kiwi crates. I threw out the trunk and wrappers from Carla’s arts and crafts supply library; none of the supplies were IN the trunk or wrappers but were instead strewn about the rest of the cabinet. I threw out SO MUCH CONSTRUCTION PAPER. In one burst of creativity, Carla had masking-taped blank pieces of perfectly good construction paper to one another. Many, many pieces. For a while, I tried to remove the tape so she could put the paper itself to good use, but during my clean out I just THREW IT AWAY. I also bought a brand new pack of construction paper earlier this week because I am an enabler, apparently.

I threw out even MORE projects. I did it swiftly, lest Carla come downstairs and cry over the ball of scrunched up masking tape coated in purple glitter or the little baggie filled with foam-and-googly-eye monster faces. I do feel bad about throwing away her creations – I DO. She is SUCH a creative kid and I love watching her come up with ideas. Sometimes, she’ll just decide to like, make a costume. “I’m making bunny costumes, Mommy,” she’ll inform me. And then she’ll create little bunny-paw gloves and littly bunny-ear headbands and fluffy tails and carrots and we will put them on and hop around for awhile. It’s darling and she is wonderfully adept at turning paper and tape into recognizable and wonderful things. (The bunny costume was near the bottom of the bottom shelf; it went into the trash.) (I’m not heartless; I gave the bunny costume a fond and wistful look as I was sweeping into the garbage bag.)

But she has so very many creations. And many of them go into the craft cabinet to be forgotten forever. Others are half-finished, or half-conceptualized when she shoves them into the cabinet. 

Some of the projects, I just don’t understand. For instance, there were at least three baggies full of scraps of paper. That she had cut, painstakingly, into bits, for some unknown purpose, and then stored carefully in a baggie for future use. And I just… threw them away. 

Cabinet fully cleared, and most of the throw-away-able stuff is now thrown away. Please note I have had to upgrade my kitchen-size garbage bag to a heavy duty 33 gallon lawn and leaf bag.

We had a bunch of activity books in the cabinet and I was really able to pare that down. I got rid of a long abandoned puffy sticker play set, and a three-quarters-used create-a-face sticker book, and a hardly worked-on First Grade workbook. There were even a couple of things that she had never once opened and has since outgrown, like a paint-with-water book and some of those awesome mess-free glitter project books, so I put them in the donate pile. (I had forgotten about the puffy sticker play sets and the mess-free glitters things – man, we bought a LOT of those for a LOT of years; they were always a big hit and good for many hours of quiet play.) 

There are a lot of books remaining – coloring books, which she seems more into now that she’s a little older (even though the activities strike me as a little young for her), and books of mazes, and books about how to draw animals. Maybe now that they are easier to see/access, she’ll use them more often. 

Finally, I was able to fit (nearly) everything into the bins that were not really fulfilling their purpose. Ever the optimist, I labeled the bins for ease of maintaining order. I wiped down the shelves of the cabinet, put the books and bins back in, taped a few colorful items I couldn’t bring myself to throw away onto the doors, and voila! 

How long will it stay this way? Stay tuned to find out…

Let’s look at the before and after, shall we?

After the cabinets were tidy — whose cleanliness, again, was 100% not necessary for me to be able to do my other cleaning — I was able to do a nice thorough cleaning of the downstairs. And then I felt ready to start putting up the Christmas stuff. 

But, even if it wasn’t necessary per se, it was still VERY satisfying.

Satisfying Shoe Project

It is this past Saturday:

I feel a sudden burst of energy. I had been looking with disgust at our mud room/shoe closet for many weeks now, and I am finally ready to Do Something About It.

First, I look up whether I am, in fact, able to donate shoes. I have some tangential awareness that places like Goodwill have been overrun by donations since the pandemic began (apparently a lot of people have used their forced isolation to do useful things??? instead of just stress eat and watch tv????), so I don’t want to dump my old shoes on them if they are already overburdened. I discover that DSW partners with an organization called Soles4Souls, collecting and donating gently used shoes for people who need them. I do no more research than that. That is enough to fan the gentle smoldering of intention into a flame of determination.

I put down my book. I leave Carla working diligently on her LEGO creations. And I march right into the pantry and get two big garbage bags.  One, I mark with a piece of masking tape that says “SHOES TO DONATE.” Then I march over to the mud room. I am full of resolution!

There, staring at the jumble of shoes in front of me, I sort of sag. The size of the job ahead feels daunting. And should I really be spending a sunny Saturday going through old shoes?

Well. I am not one to look a Cleaning Impulse Horse in the mouth, so I say sharply to myself, “I will do what I can do.” And I get started.

(It helps, admittedly, to take photos for this post. Nothing like a little blog accountability to spur one into action.)

Have I showed you our mud room yet?

It is my least favorite part of our house. If our house were just a teeny bit bigger – maybe with one extra room, maybe with one extra garage space – I would want to live here for the rest of my days. Except for the mud room.

Mud room 1

As you can see, to call it a room is to flatter it beyond deserving. It is, in more realistic terms, a small alcove that connects the garage to the kitchen, and which contains a closet. And yet we use it to store many items that we need daily: Carla’s backpack and extracurricular activity bags (which, of necessity, hang on the handle of the closet door) (a door that doesn’t function — it no longer opens and closes properly, so we leave it open much to my chagrin), the shoes we wear most often, coats and jackets, scarves and hats and umbrellas. It is full to bursting.

Mud room 2

Well, I know that we have at least a FEW pairs of shoes that are too small or underused or nearing disintegration. Hence this project. My goal is twofold: 1) to pare down the number of shoes we own and 2) to clean out and reorganize the closets.

I start by removing all the shoes from the closet and strewing them about the kitchen in a slapdash manner. As is so often true, the mess gets worse before it gets better.

Mud room 3

One tiny closet can sure fit a ton of shoes! Also, I was surprised to discover that, so far this summer, I have have worn eight of the fourteen pairs of my shoes that were living in the closet. Obviously, the other six pairs need to GO.

Should I maybe have undertaken this project at the beginning of the summer shoe season, rather than living with snowboots in among the flipflops all summer? Perhaps. Would it therefore also make sense to wait until the weather cools, so that I can remove all the sandals to their winter home? Again I say perhaps. And yet we move on, because we have MOMENTUM and we dare not waste it.

The interior of the closet is a disaster. Leaf bits and grass particles and dirt and sand and gravel and mud. Yuck. It also appears that the walls have never been cleaned in the history of the home’s existence.

Mud room 4

It doesn’t look TOO terrible in this picture, but let me assure you that it was GROSS.

How did the prior family – who had THREE children, not just the one – fit all their belongings into this one tiny closet?

I use my trusty zooper to zoop out all the muck. Then I spray the floor and walls with bleach spray and give them a thorough (but not particularly successful) scrubbing.

Much better.

Mud room 5

Let us ignore the grout. It is a battle I cannot win.

You may be wondering why I made such a stink about this tiny little project that is now nearly done! However, before I simply replace the shoes, I need to share with you that there are TWO ADDITIONAL shoe storage areas in our home.

If I am to be thorough about this project, I need to clean ALL of them.

First, to the hall closet.

Hall closet 1

This is the closet in which one is supposed to store coats of visitors. That is never possible; as you can see, this closet is ALSO full to bursting. With shoes, on the bottom there, but also with SO MANY COATS. (Some of these coats are relics from high school and college — my husband’s high school letter jacket, for one thing — and would likely find their golden years just as fulfilling in a box somewhere. Some of them belong to my in laws, like the giant fur on the left. That’s a story for another time. Some of them are ancient coats I just can’t seem to part with — like the grey wool coat I wore while pregnant with Carla, and had worn for several years prior, and which I am sure is missing several crucial buttons.)

Hall closet 2

A close-up of the shoe situation, which is so dire you can’t really even see any individual shoes.

Perhaps the next project will be a coats and jackets pare down.  But let’s take it one step at a time, or we are liable to get discouraged/overwhelmed and give up, leaving boots and shoes all over the kitchen floor.

I remove all the shoes from this closet. In doing so, I unearth a pair of child’s boots that I have no recollection of buying. Are they Carla’s? She seems to recognize them, but upon further questioning it is clear she knows as little about them as I do. Are they snow boots? Are they rain boots? Who knows! They fit, so they go in the keep pile.

Hall closet 3

The slippers on the right are reserved for my in-laws when they visit, since we don’t allow shoes in our house. There’s also a pair of men’s shoes that I have never seen before. I move those to my husband’s side of our bedroom closet.

This closet is also filthy, though less so.

Hall closet 4

Again to the zooper! Again with the bleach!

Much better.

Upstairs, now, to the walk-in closet that I share with my husband. It is narrow but deep. Along one wall are my upstairs shoes. You know, the fancy shoes, and the shoes I wear rarely, so they live upstairs rather than near the garage with the other frequent-use footwear.

Some of these also have — deep breath — sentimental value. Let’s be clear, going in, that we are going to have to do some additional mental work to get rid of some of these shoes.

Walk in 1

I take comfort knowing my husband has kept all his ties, even though he no longer wears ties. Perhaps that balances out the black work pumps I cannot get rid of, just in case I’m called in to some sort of business casual work event at the job I don’t possess.

I did manage to divest myself of a pair of sky-high wedges that I’ve had since college, and couldn’t walk in even then, and certainly would not be able to wear today without severe calf cramping and possibly a broken ankle. I also got rid of a pair of wedge sandals that I have had for a good five to ten years and LOVE and have never been able to replace with acceptable facsimiles. And I eighty-sixed two pairs of wedges that I never really liked, but have kept for years because they were perfectly serviceable.

Some good cleansing work. However, I did NOT throw away the white dress sandals that I have worn maybe twice ever and am unlikely to ever wear again. I kept them JUST IN CASE. Well. We are doing what we can and not an ounce more.

(One wonders why I hold so tightly to shoes when it is so very delightful to buy NEW ones for occasions that need something special.)

It is fairly tidy up here. I also get rid of a stack of eight EMPTY shoe boxes (why did I keep them when clearly I didn’t intend to store shoes within them?) and zoop up a moth.

Now that we have some room to reorganize, it is time to return downstairs for more paring down.

Hall closet 5

A wall full of my boots and Carla’s boots and a pair of my husband’s high school ice skates.

It turns out that I possess four (4) pairs of nearly identical black boots. Why? Am I single-handedly trying to bolster the black boot economy? Okay, two of them have tiny heels, so maybe those are… dressier black boots. Another has a tiny wedge heel and also seems to be on the daintier side. One pair is my favorite pair — my go-to black boots for fall. One pair has a great deal of scuff marks – this is probably the pair I wear when I know I’ll be walking through undesirable groundcover. I should get rid of two pairs. But which two? Maybe the boots with the small wedge heel? But they are in SUCH good condition. Maybe the scuffed up boots? But what if I need to go apple picking or something and don’t want to mess up my good boots? I cannot decide!

Let’s focus instead on the two pairs of brown boots. One pair I wear a LOT in the fall months. But the other… well, the other is the first really expensive pair of boots I bought for myself. I don’t wear them often anymore but… I can’t get rid of them. (I have a problem.)

Okay, so we’re keeping all the boots. I can at least divvy them up — the “fancy” boots and the beloved brown boots can go upstairs. The other three can stay in the hall closet until cooler weather arrives.

Moving on. I can get rid of the pair of winter boots I’ve had for seven or eight years now that I hate. I finally found replacement boots last year. I don’t love them, but I don’t hate them either. So out with the old. The new can take a spot in the hall closet, alongside my ancient Uggs. (What? They come in handy quite often.)

Also in the haul from the hallway closet are two pairs of boots that are too small for Carla, plus a couple pairs of everyday shoes she’s outgrown as well. It is much easier to get rid of her old shoes than mine.

I relocate my husband’s ice skates to the basement. I move some wedges and two pairs of my husband’s shoes to the upstairs closet. I put everything that I am keeping back in the freshly-cleaned hall closet and mud room.

Whew. We are DONE.

All right. After all that, I have two rather small piles to excise from my collection.

Throwaway pile

So well-used they are beyond repair. These are earmarked for the trash.

 

I manage to throw away ten (10) pairs of shoes. Half of the shoes belonged to Carla. I tend to buy cheapish shoes for her because a) she is going to outgrow them in a year or less and b) she is REALLY hard on shoes. I don’t know what she does to them — although I’m sure that if I paid a bit more for higher quality footwear, it might hold up a bit better. I am not yet willing to test that theory though. All of the shoes that are mine are at LEAST as old as Carla is. I can remember wearing those black wedges when I was pregnant with her. All the others, I’ve had even longer.

The hardest shoes to toss are these brown wedges.

Beloved shoes

Even in this flattering light, they are showing their age.

I love them, and have for many, many years. Since college, I think. I cannot find anything comparable, though I’ve looked for the past two or three years, knowing that the end was nigh. Finally, last year, the sole of one shoe cracked off. I kept the sole and the shoe, hoping to fix it, somehow… But I never got around to it, and I don’t really think it’s possible. Into the trash they go!

I set aside eight (8) pairs of shoes that I think I can donate. They are all in very good condition, gently used. Or, in the case of the beautiful Ugg slippers my husband got for me a decade ago, only worn a handful of times (they were too small, and this was in the days before everything had free returns so I just kept them).

Donation pile

I think these are gently-used enough that they can work for a new owner.

Here are the final views of the closets.

Mud room:

Mud room 6Mud room 7

Mud room before and after:

 

Hall closet (very hard to see any difference, what with all the coats):

 

Hall closet 6Hall closet 7

Hall closet before and after:

 

Bedroom walk in:

Walk in 2Walk in 3Walk in 4

Bedroom walk in before and after:

Only in my house would getting rid of eighteen whole pairs of shoes make such an insignificant dent!

It has taken me under two hours to accomplish this much put-off task. Does that mean I will jump right in and tackle the coats situation? No it does not.