In my last blog post, I mentioned, among other things, that in my about-to-be acquired nomadic lifestyle, I'll have no designated spot to place my library books. My friend, Dixie, (undoubtedly the most avid book lover I know) expressed concern--no--alarm at the fact that a life spent roving would mean that (gasp!) I'd not only have to lighten my book load, but that, without an address, I would not have a library card! Who in their right mind would voluntarily choose a life devoid of literary delights?
Dixie's question was one upon which I'd been reflecting (okay--obsessing) deeply. I, too, love to read, although I am not nearly as much a collector of books as Dixie, whose comfy-cozy home has numerous bookshelves all overflowing with much-loved reads. On my part, my aversion to clutter and my frugal nature generally means that my thirst for literature has been quenched by the library rather than the bookstore. Of course, this means that the books I do (er...did) own were ones that passed the test that catapulted them from borrowing to ownership status and earned the coveted position of permanent placement on my bookshelf. And believe me, a book had to be damn good to be given this honor.
The paring down of my books has been a four step process. Two years ago, when we sold the Victorian, I eliminated many volumes. With this most recent endeavor, on the first run-through, I eliminated about half of what I had. A few days later, I went through the remaining pile of about 15 books. Many of them were business and marketing books, each with a nugget or two that I planned to implement in my wedding officiating business. With a shrug, I finally acknowledged that my business has been steadily growing over the years without utilizing these strategies, and I'm going to be traveling too much to really take the time to implement them anyway. Besides, if I haven't done anything with them by now...So, out they went.
I left myself with three books:
The Pink House--probably an unremarkable story to most, except for the fact that it is the first book I ever experienced being read aloud (to and by my mother when I was about 12 or 13). It instituted in me a love of reading aloud and being read to that continues to this day, I love being read to--especially by someone I love. It allows me to not only delve into the story, but also hear the familiar voice of someone I care about in the process. Someone who reads well aloud is worth their weight in gold.
Whispers of Inspiration--a collection of poems that I refer to often, not only because they are beautiful, but because a contributor is one of my oldest and most beloved friends. I'd forgotten that Bob had inscribed a note to me on the inside cover when he gave it to me years ago. When packing up my books, I spied his familiar left-handed scrawl and it made me smile. Thanking God for the gift of longtime friends, I put the book into the "keep" pile.
The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted and Other Small Acts of Liberation--this one has twofold significance. First of all, any woman who has ever dieted will appreciate the enormity of the sentiment expressed in the title. But more important, the last story in the book, Sin City, has special meaning to me. The story is about a woman who musters the courage to step out of her comfort zone and seek out a new and exciting life. (Sound familiar?) The fictional woman's name in the story is Rita Thompson. That was also my mother's name (minus the "p"). I read the story for the first time (knowing neither the plot nor the main character's name when I began it) the day after my mom's funeral. A message from the Universe? Not an ounce of doubt in the world. That book goes where I go.
And as for my thirst for additional reading material? There are always e-readers and downloadable audiobooks, used bookstores and the borrowing of library cards of others when I am in their neck of the woods. I am not concerned. Also, I tend to read less when I'm exploring new places. And I intend to do lots of exploring!
In a pinch, I can always Skype Dixie and have her read to me!
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Location Independent Living for the Organizing Freak
One of my favorite questions to the organizational-impaired person as he or she is frantically searching for their keys (remote, cell phone, small child, etc.) is to ask when the last time was that they lost their toothbrush. This usually results in a blank stare, followed by a "Huh?" and a response (subtly implying that I am dumber than a box of rocks for asking) along the lines of, "Well--duh. Never!"
"Why?" I persist. Another blank look. "Because," I point out, "you drop your toothbrush in the same place every time you're finished using it. Be it in the top drawer, the fancy toothbrush holder or the scummed up glass on the side of the sink, your toothbrush has a HOME. That's why you never lose it."
In other words, in my life, the timeless wisdom of a "place for everything and everything in its place" has saved me countless hours of searching, mentally retracing my steps and frustration. Between keeping my stuff to a minimum and having homes for the stuff that I do have, I've managed to set myself up with one sweet little life (mostly) devoid of frantic searching and blaming of my husband when items cannot be found. (Side note: this also contributes much in the marital harmony department for it has been my experience that nearly every time I testily imply that Jeremy has appropriated something of mine, I inevitably discover that it was me who left the item in its AWOL location.)
However, our recent drastic downsizing and our impending launch of our location independent lifestyle has me wondering how I am going to implement a home base for my stuff when there is no home base for me! My designated homes are about to disappear altogether. No hook by the back door for my keys, no bin under said hook for my sunglasses, garage door opener and tissues. No basket for library books to be returned, designated plug to hold the cell phone charger nor magnetic notepad affixed to the fridge door (ditto for the mandatory pen atop the refrigerator to write on said notepad). No top nightstand drawer for my thyroid pills, hook beside my computer upon which to hang my headset, spot by the bathroom sink for my jar of Q-tips. Hell, no jar for the Q-tips in the first place. And my kitchen! Every pot and pan has an assigned spot (God, I love my dish-washing husband, who bemusedly but dutifully puts every pan back where it came from.) I swear I could whip up an entire meal in the dark.
I'm not sure how successful my transition to voluntary homelessness is going to be in this regard. I have developed my travel homes. The hotel room key ALWAYS goes on top of the TV, for example, when I am in the room. That way, I never have to hunt for it, thereby allowing me to get to the hotel lounge that much sooner. So I guess I will simply expand this technique to adopt universal homes for my limited supply of stuff as I land in the various places that are to become my temporary homes.
It's a little intimidating for an uber-organized person like myself. Maybe I'll get one of those huge trench coats with a myriad of inside pockets (like the guys who sell "Rolex" watches on the sidewalks of New York) and put everything in it from my passport to my vitamins to a small mixing bowl and a whisk. Then I can wear it always and have a home for my stuff no matter where I roam. It might make swimming a bit difficult, but I'll make the sacrifice in order to keep my sanity.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
"Why?" I persist. Another blank look. "Because," I point out, "you drop your toothbrush in the same place every time you're finished using it. Be it in the top drawer, the fancy toothbrush holder or the scummed up glass on the side of the sink, your toothbrush has a HOME. That's why you never lose it."
In other words, in my life, the timeless wisdom of a "place for everything and everything in its place" has saved me countless hours of searching, mentally retracing my steps and frustration. Between keeping my stuff to a minimum and having homes for the stuff that I do have, I've managed to set myself up with one sweet little life (mostly) devoid of frantic searching and blaming of my husband when items cannot be found. (Side note: this also contributes much in the marital harmony department for it has been my experience that nearly every time I testily imply that Jeremy has appropriated something of mine, I inevitably discover that it was me who left the item in its AWOL location.)
However, our recent drastic downsizing and our impending launch of our location independent lifestyle has me wondering how I am going to implement a home base for my stuff when there is no home base for me! My designated homes are about to disappear altogether. No hook by the back door for my keys, no bin under said hook for my sunglasses, garage door opener and tissues. No basket for library books to be returned, designated plug to hold the cell phone charger nor magnetic notepad affixed to the fridge door (ditto for the mandatory pen atop the refrigerator to write on said notepad). No top nightstand drawer for my thyroid pills, hook beside my computer upon which to hang my headset, spot by the bathroom sink for my jar of Q-tips. Hell, no jar for the Q-tips in the first place. And my kitchen! Every pot and pan has an assigned spot (God, I love my dish-washing husband, who bemusedly but dutifully puts every pan back where it came from.) I swear I could whip up an entire meal in the dark.
I'm not sure how successful my transition to voluntary homelessness is going to be in this regard. I have developed my travel homes. The hotel room key ALWAYS goes on top of the TV, for example, when I am in the room. That way, I never have to hunt for it, thereby allowing me to get to the hotel lounge that much sooner. So I guess I will simply expand this technique to adopt universal homes for my limited supply of stuff as I land in the various places that are to become my temporary homes.
It's a little intimidating for an uber-organized person like myself. Maybe I'll get one of those huge trench coats with a myriad of inside pockets (like the guys who sell "Rolex" watches on the sidewalks of New York) and put everything in it from my passport to my vitamins to a small mixing bowl and a whisk. Then I can wear it always and have a home for my stuff no matter where I roam. It might make swimming a bit difficult, but I'll make the sacrifice in order to keep my sanity.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Butterflies Everywhere!
Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder... - Henry David Thoreau
I had no idea until just now that the above quote was attributed to Thoreau. I remember it from a poster from my college days--back in the 70s when it was trendy to cover one's walls with such enlightened sayings. These were made even more sage if they were accompanied by a picture of fuzzy kitten, a peace sign or any references to Star Wars.
Something from that college poster taped near my bed must have stuck, for I think of Thoreau's saying often--not only in its relativity to happiness but in regard to so many good things that have come my way while I was "turning my attention to other things." Take for example, the birth of each of my daughters oh so many years ago. Since calling them "accidents" is now shunned as being politically incorrect, just let me say that they showed up as "surprises" when I very much had my attention turned to other things. No harm, no foul and now that they are through the diapers-terrible twos-needing daycare-childhood schlepping to after-school activities-adolescence-college tuition-oh Mom, by the way I'm pregnant phase they're pretty fun to be around. Yep, I'd say they definitely contribute to my happiness on a daily basis.
When Jeremy and I moved to Portland after a few years of here and there and focusing on other goals, one of our aims was to increase our circle of local friends. Facebook, Skype , blogs and occasional visits are awesome. And while no one can take the place of our old friends scattered throughout the world, it would be nice, we reasoned, to have a friend or two in closer proximity with whom to have the occasional glass of vino.
We approached this task ambitiously (in that way we have). We joined one Meetup group, then another. With these groups, we went on tours of Portland, visited museums, went to parties, etc. We friend-dated, we schmoozed, we put ourselves out there. In an effort to get to know our neighbors, we spent hours baking and packaging up mini pound cakes and on New Year's Day, the two of us went door to door to meet and greet and give the gift of sugar and fat.
I gotta tell ya, the results were less than stellar.
It's not that people weren't friendly. They were. It's not like we couldn't engage on some level. We could. But we never found that ideal friend chemistry. There was no one with whom I could see myself sitting on the porch having a cuppa tea (or 12) and jawing the afternoon away, preferably with at least one episode of snorting said tea out of my nose with laughter. Event after event and effort after effort, all we met were people who, at best, fell into the casual acquaintance category.
This was disturbing but not devastating. Jeremy and I generally enjoy each other's company for long stretches of time, so it's not like talking and tea-snorting experiences are totally absent from our lives. And once the Housesitting/Location Independent Lifestyle Adventure manifested itself, we turned our attention to that and the quest to find local peeps fell by the wayside.
Until we had our Best Moving Sale in the World this past weekend, that is. Now really, who would think of a yard sale as being fertile ground for finding friends? Seriously, if I were in the market for a new man, I'd forget about the grocery store, bars and Match.com. No siree Bob. Throw a yard sale and have an interesting story to share accompanied by some good junk to sell. And Bob's yer uncle! (Boy, this Bob guy sure gets around.)
Jeremy and I have connected with the most fascinating people over the past three days. You know when you're talking to someone who is interesting and you realize as you hear yourself speaking to them, that you also sound interesting? And you think, "Wow! this person is so interesting that he/she makes me feel interesting!" And then you think, "Well, Dayum--maybe I AM interesting too! Who knew???"
Yeah, those kinds of people. One guy chatted with us at length on Saturday and then brought his wife back and we chatted at more length on Sunday. We liked her too. We exchanged phone numbers and emails. After they left, Jeremy and laughed over the irony of finding prospective friends just as we are wrapping up our Portland stay. A fluke, we thought...until it happened again.
Sunday afternoon we bumbled onto (or rather, they bumbled onto us) a young couple with whom we clicked immediately. Two hours later, conversations about world travel, minimalism, and Universal good fortune had been had, phone numbers, emails and Facebook info had been exchanged and a bread maker--complete with a hands-on demonstration--had transferred ownership.
Maybe Jeremy and I are destined to have a better quality of long-distance friendships than local ones. That appears to be the direction in which the Universe is guiding us. Judging by the caliber of friends in my long distance arsenal at the moment, we're good with that. These butterflies can rest on our shoulders anytime.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
I had no idea until just now that the above quote was attributed to Thoreau. I remember it from a poster from my college days--back in the 70s when it was trendy to cover one's walls with such enlightened sayings. These were made even more sage if they were accompanied by a picture of fuzzy kitten, a peace sign or any references to Star Wars.
Something from that college poster taped near my bed must have stuck, for I think of Thoreau's saying often--not only in its relativity to happiness but in regard to so many good things that have come my way while I was "turning my attention to other things." Take for example, the birth of each of my daughters oh so many years ago. Since calling them "accidents" is now shunned as being politically incorrect, just let me say that they showed up as "surprises" when I very much had my attention turned to other things. No harm, no foul and now that they are through the diapers-terrible twos-needing daycare-childhood schlepping to after-school activities-adolescence-college tuition-oh Mom, by the way I'm pregnant phase they're pretty fun to be around. Yep, I'd say they definitely contribute to my happiness on a daily basis.
When Jeremy and I moved to Portland after a few years of here and there and focusing on other goals, one of our aims was to increase our circle of local friends. Facebook, Skype , blogs and occasional visits are awesome. And while no one can take the place of our old friends scattered throughout the world, it would be nice, we reasoned, to have a friend or two in closer proximity with whom to have the occasional glass of vino.
We approached this task ambitiously (in that way we have). We joined one Meetup group, then another. With these groups, we went on tours of Portland, visited museums, went to parties, etc. We friend-dated, we schmoozed, we put ourselves out there. In an effort to get to know our neighbors, we spent hours baking and packaging up mini pound cakes and on New Year's Day, the two of us went door to door to meet and greet and give the gift of sugar and fat.
I gotta tell ya, the results were less than stellar.
It's not that people weren't friendly. They were. It's not like we couldn't engage on some level. We could. But we never found that ideal friend chemistry. There was no one with whom I could see myself sitting on the porch having a cuppa tea (or 12) and jawing the afternoon away, preferably with at least one episode of snorting said tea out of my nose with laughter. Event after event and effort after effort, all we met were people who, at best, fell into the casual acquaintance category.
This was disturbing but not devastating. Jeremy and I generally enjoy each other's company for long stretches of time, so it's not like talking and tea-snorting experiences are totally absent from our lives. And once the Housesitting/Location Independent Lifestyle Adventure manifested itself, we turned our attention to that and the quest to find local peeps fell by the wayside.
Until we had our Best Moving Sale in the World this past weekend, that is. Now really, who would think of a yard sale as being fertile ground for finding friends? Seriously, if I were in the market for a new man, I'd forget about the grocery store, bars and Match.com. No siree Bob. Throw a yard sale and have an interesting story to share accompanied by some good junk to sell. And Bob's yer uncle! (Boy, this Bob guy sure gets around.)
Jeremy and I have connected with the most fascinating people over the past three days. You know when you're talking to someone who is interesting and you realize as you hear yourself speaking to them, that you also sound interesting? And you think, "Wow! this person is so interesting that he/she makes me feel interesting!" And then you think, "Well, Dayum--maybe I AM interesting too! Who knew???"
Yeah, those kinds of people. One guy chatted with us at length on Saturday and then brought his wife back and we chatted at more length on Sunday. We liked her too. We exchanged phone numbers and emails. After they left, Jeremy and laughed over the irony of finding prospective friends just as we are wrapping up our Portland stay. A fluke, we thought...until it happened again.
Sunday afternoon we bumbled onto (or rather, they bumbled onto us) a young couple with whom we clicked immediately. Two hours later, conversations about world travel, minimalism, and Universal good fortune had been had, phone numbers, emails and Facebook info had been exchanged and a bread maker--complete with a hands-on demonstration--had transferred ownership.
Maybe Jeremy and I are destined to have a better quality of long-distance friendships than local ones. That appears to be the direction in which the Universe is guiding us. Judging by the caliber of friends in my long distance arsenal at the moment, we're good with that. These butterflies can rest on our shoulders anytime.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Monday, March 7, 2011
And a good time was had by all
It's the morning after. The moving sale dust has settled. All is still. It was an uphill battle for a bit, but after three days of tagging, schlepping, Craig's List updating and yes--merchandising, all is quiet. The hoards of bargain hunters have left, bringing more stuff into their (for the most part) overstuffed homes.
And the house is...eerily still. No clocks tick. There is no sound of a chair scraping the floor. Dishes do not clang together in the kitchen sink. No smell of burning toast emits from the toaster. Netflix movies do not appear on the television. Even the rain has stopped drumming incessantly against the roof. All is quiet.
And in the stillness of the silence, the reader asks, "Why? What is the source of this almost reverential quietude after such boisterous and hectic activity?"
Well, gentle soul, all will be revealed in time. First, close your eyes...breathe in...breathe out...enjoy the silence...revel in the glory of the anticipation. Namaste...
Because...
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
And the house is...eerily still. No clocks tick. There is no sound of a chair scraping the floor. Dishes do not clang together in the kitchen sink. No smell of burning toast emits from the toaster. Netflix movies do not appear on the television. Even the rain has stopped drumming incessantly against the roof. All is quiet.
And in the stillness of the silence, the reader asks, "Why? What is the source of this almost reverential quietude after such boisterous and hectic activity?"
Well, gentle soul, all will be revealed in time. First, close your eyes...breathe in...breathe out...enjoy the silence...revel in the glory of the anticipation. Namaste...
Because...
WE SOLD ALL OUR FREAKING STUFF!!! WOO HOO. HAPPY DANCE!! Oh yeah, yea us. Nice Stupid auction lady said we wouldn't be able to do it on our own. Ha! She underestimated the power of the dynamic duo! Ha ha. We rock!!! We are like the best, the most superlativeness, sumpremo can't-stop-us-so-don't-even-try yard sale gurus on the effin' PLANET!!! We totally freaking rule!!!
Okay, let me compose myself. That felt so good. All this silence was beginning to grate on my type A nerves.
Yes, dear friends. We are down to one new Weber grill, one chair and ottoman, a couple of desks and a handful of boxes of kitchen items. We've got a wad of cash in our pockets and nothing to dust for the foreseeable future. Plus, we feel good knowing our high quality junk (seriously, it was some great stuff) has flowed out from us to others who will make good use of the things and to whom these items will hopefully bring comfort, ease, and maybe even some happiness. Plus, PLUS, we made some new friends in the process--two couples with whom we sat at length and talked and talked. More on them in another post.
The location independent light at the end of the tunnel grows ever closer.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Friday, March 4, 2011
And so the Craig's List madness begins
Whenever I'm faced with a large or quasi-unpleasant task, I ask myself, "Do I have more time or do I have more money?" The answer to that question indicates whether I'll do the task myself (a.k.a. DIY) or hire someone else to do it for me. Usually, the answer to this question is all I need to point me in the right direction.
Usually, but not always. In the endeavor to wrap things up at our Portland house and get outta Dodge by the end of the month, the term "March Madness" has been given a whole new meaning. Jeremy and I are still running our wedding officiating business (brides don't care that we're undertaking an entirely new lifestyle change--as well they shouldn't since they're about to make a pretty significant lifestyle change of their own). So, since that show must go on, we have to squeeze in the rest of our lives--no matter how unmanageable--around that.
Ergo, the answer to the question, "In regard to selling our crap, do we have the time to list everything on Craig's List/Ebay and have an estate sale or do we have more money to give the whole kit 'n kaboodle to an auction house?"
No brainer, thought we. Time is at a premium. Money less so. On Tuesday, I placed a call to the auction house. On Wednesday, the nice auction lady came over. Bear in mind that our house is full of new furniture and other items that we have purchased within the past six months. Our receipts show the new stuff totaling close to $10,000. Throw in the stuff that we already had and I figure we're conservatively looking at about $12,000 worth of some primo booty. We figured we'd settle for an offer of $3,000, and eagerly hoped for something closer to $4,000 from the nice auction lady.
Apparently, I don't know horse manure from shinola when it comes to used furniture values. The nice auction lady offered us $1,250 for our stuff. I thought Jeremy was going to go into anaphylactic shock on the spot. Bad auction lady!
So, after reviving my husband, we decided that maybe we have more time than we thought (or less money than we thought, depending on how you look at it) so we began the process of Craig's List posting. And as usual, this is bringing us into contact with all the interesting, fun, thoughtful and crazy people of the greater Portland area. The first guy that came over spoiled us. He was an absolute sweetheart who ended up walking through the house with us to see what else we had that he might want in addition to the item for which he originally came (which he did buy). We ended up having a great conversation (his wife is expecting a baby and her due date is the same date as my daughter Alyssa's birthday. What are the odds? We're practically soul mates!) and he picked up some tools for a song.
Life was good...until prospective customer #2 blew us off for his appointment, then finally showed up three hours late, asked a bunch of nosey questions and tried to get us to sell him our brand new dining room set for a pittance (after telling us what a POS it was).
Yeah...Jeremy firmly escorted him to the door.
Ya gotta love the world of Craig's. It's such a microcosm of our society. And since Jeremy and I met on CL, we do hold a special place in our hearts for it. And the good news is that we've already sold enough stuff to make the $1,250 that the auction lady would have given us so anything over and above is profit...well...sorta...
If nothing else, dealing with the "public" (as Jeremy often says, always with air quotes) is allowing me to focus on something else (like is the next CL joker that comes through the door going to be an ax murderer?) rather than my ambivalence at getting rid of some of my favorite pieces. No kidding, if Jeremy says, "it's just stuff" one more time, there's going to be a serious accident around here. Last night he dared to refer to my Serta Perfect Sleeper King Sized Royal Comfort extra Firm mattress as STUFF!!! Can you believe it??? The first mattress of my entire adult life that is Goldilocks-just right for me. And he called it "just stuff"!!!
Yeah, all I'm sayin' is, "who's the crazy one now?"
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Usually, but not always. In the endeavor to wrap things up at our Portland house and get outta Dodge by the end of the month, the term "March Madness" has been given a whole new meaning. Jeremy and I are still running our wedding officiating business (brides don't care that we're undertaking an entirely new lifestyle change--as well they shouldn't since they're about to make a pretty significant lifestyle change of their own). So, since that show must go on, we have to squeeze in the rest of our lives--no matter how unmanageable--around that.
Ergo, the answer to the question, "In regard to selling our crap, do we have the time to list everything on Craig's List/Ebay and have an estate sale or do we have more money to give the whole kit 'n kaboodle to an auction house?"
No brainer, thought we. Time is at a premium. Money less so. On Tuesday, I placed a call to the auction house. On Wednesday, the nice auction lady came over. Bear in mind that our house is full of new furniture and other items that we have purchased within the past six months. Our receipts show the new stuff totaling close to $10,000. Throw in the stuff that we already had and I figure we're conservatively looking at about $12,000 worth of some primo booty. We figured we'd settle for an offer of $3,000, and eagerly hoped for something closer to $4,000 from the nice auction lady.
Apparently, I don't know horse manure from shinola when it comes to used furniture values. The nice auction lady offered us $1,250 for our stuff. I thought Jeremy was going to go into anaphylactic shock on the spot. Bad auction lady!
So, after reviving my husband, we decided that maybe we have more time than we thought (or less money than we thought, depending on how you look at it) so we began the process of Craig's List posting. And as usual, this is bringing us into contact with all the interesting, fun, thoughtful and crazy people of the greater Portland area. The first guy that came over spoiled us. He was an absolute sweetheart who ended up walking through the house with us to see what else we had that he might want in addition to the item for which he originally came (which he did buy). We ended up having a great conversation (his wife is expecting a baby and her due date is the same date as my daughter Alyssa's birthday. What are the odds? We're practically soul mates!) and he picked up some tools for a song.
Life was good...until prospective customer #2 blew us off for his appointment, then finally showed up three hours late, asked a bunch of nosey questions and tried to get us to sell him our brand new dining room set for a pittance (after telling us what a POS it was).
Yeah...Jeremy firmly escorted him to the door.
Ya gotta love the world of Craig's. It's such a microcosm of our society. And since Jeremy and I met on CL, we do hold a special place in our hearts for it. And the good news is that we've already sold enough stuff to make the $1,250 that the auction lady would have given us so anything over and above is profit...well...sorta...
If nothing else, dealing with the "public" (as Jeremy often says, always with air quotes) is allowing me to focus on something else (like is the next CL joker that comes through the door going to be an ax murderer?) rather than my ambivalence at getting rid of some of my favorite pieces. No kidding, if Jeremy says, "it's just stuff" one more time, there's going to be a serious accident around here. Last night he dared to refer to my Serta Perfect Sleeper King Sized Royal Comfort extra Firm mattress as STUFF!!! Can you believe it??? The first mattress of my entire adult life that is Goldilocks-just right for me. And he called it "just stuff"!!!
Yeah, all I'm sayin' is, "who's the crazy one now?"
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Pondering uncomfortable feelings and chickens
I've been pondering this quote from Thoreau’s Walden a lot of late:
“It is desirable that a man […] live in all respects so compactly and preparedly that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety.” As Jeremy and I ruthlessly dispose of our possessions (Oh my! That sounds so Mother Theresa, sackcloth and ashes-like! Excuse me while I chant ommmmmmmmmmmmm) I must admit there is more than a little anxiety on my part. Feeling said anxiety makes me feel...well..a bit...anxious. Every blog I have ever read about minimalism and location-independent living talks about the feeling of liberation experienced by embracing this lifestyle. Yeah--about that...I'm not feelin' it as of yet. Can anyone tell me when that kicks in?
What I have been experiencing (besides the aforementioned anxiety) are the following:
Dishevelment. Sorry, no time for capricious acts of personal hygiene. I'm too busy sorting piles. Besides, I'm not sure where my hairbrush is anyway. Anything beyond a shower and a toothbrush ain't happenin' Thank God I don't have a wedding to perform until the end of this month. By then, I'll hopefully be able to put my hands on some dress clothes.
Sense of Surrealism. And by that, I don't mean the art form (yeah, like I have time to go to a museum). Everything seems other-worldly, from the time I wake up in my packing crate-strewn bedroom to the minute I extricate myself from the chaos and flop back into bed exhausted. While I am logically very confident in our decision to embrace a no-fixed-address lifestyle, on an emotional level, it can feel
The What If's. I've always been a what-if kind of gal in a positive way. What if I double my wedding bookings by the end of the year? What would life be like if I lost 50 pounds? Imagine finding the right guy--finally. (Come to think of it, all those things came true.) But lately, I find myself filling my head with all kinds of negative what if's surrounding this (supposed) adventure. What happens if the stress of the unknown makes me so snappy (more than a remote possibility) that Jeremy can't stand being around me? My charm and good looks can only take me so far, ya know. And speaking of Jeremy, what if something happens to him while we're overseas in some third world country with crappy medical care and doctors who only take payments in chickens and we don't have a chicken? Then what? What if the whole thing becomes financially prohibitive (the travel--not the medical care with the chickens)? And oh, the horror if I can't get on the Internet to run my business at any given location. What if I can't find a hairdresser that gives me the great cut that I get from Brooks Miller at Honeycomb Salon in Denver? Clearly, there is potential for all types of catastrophic occurrences.
I could go on, but suffice it to say that I am feeling the effects of copious amounts of loose ends at the moment. My head tells me this will get better sooner rather than later.
However, I think that if Thoreau's "enemy" comes to "take my town," I will not leave empty-handed, but will instead grab a live chicken or two as I head out the door. Better safe than sorry.
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
What's wrong with this picture?
Every person in every relationship has certain roles that they fulfill either consciously or unconsciously. These encompass both personality attributes as well as tasks performed. These roles can be a source of comfort. In an ever changing and chaotic world, predictability in one's home can be a good thing.
Or, to put in another way, when my world has been turned on its ear, it's reassuring to know that I can still count on the fact that as long as Jeremy lives and breathes, I will never have to take out the garbage.
Prescribed roles and personal rituals might be the one thing that secures my hold on sanity during this period of dishevelment and upheaval. So, imagine my chagrin as Jeremy has single-handedly decided to change the rules of our marital game over the past few days. In our relationship, my role has always been that of the go-getter. I am the one who concocts the ideas for the life-changing scenarios, then goes balls to the wall to make them happen in record time. While the rest of the world bemoans about how they hate to move, for example, I can categorize, list stuff on Craig's List, box, pack and load faster than you can say "U-Haul." Next!
Jeremy's job is to shake his head in amusement at my ideas for adventure but then ultimately come on board for a good time to be had by all. When the process of bringing the concept into reality begins, I am the fast one, the leaper, the let's-get-it-done-and-relax later person. Jeremy takes a more languorous approach. It's not that he's not into the spirit of things, it's just that he--as does the rest of the world--tends to move a bit slower than my warp speed. It's a problem sometimes. I bite my tongue when he takes a dog's age to get something accomplished. He keeps his lips sealed as I flutter about "in that way I have."
It works for us (most of the time).
In spite of the irritation we sometimes feel with each other's speediness (or lack thereof), it has come to define who we are. We've not only adjusted accordingly, we've learned to embrace our differences. When we are piled into the car and realize we've forgotten the cell phone, it's assumed that it will be me who dashes in to retrieve it. It's just easier than drumming my fingers impatiently on the wheel, while Jeremy maneuvers his 6'3" body out of the car, lumbers into the house, hunts around for the phone, goes to the bathroom, blows his nose, stops to watch an episode of Jeopardy, grabs a snack, reads War and Peace and then eventually emerges without the cell phone. In a fraction of that amount of time, I'd be in, out and halfway to our destination. Conversely, if something needs to be researched before making a decision, then Jeremy is the go-to guy in the relationship. He'll spend days or weeks checking out every resource imaginable and then present a full report, complete with editorial comments.
I am the hare, he is the tortoise and we like it that way.
But, I gotta tell ya, something has gone horribly awry in the normalcy department. The last week has been for me, a daily series of false starts, laments and frustrations, whereas my husband has been Craig's-listing, moving out and eliminating his stuff with a joie de vivre that is usually...well... MY personal style. I, who have been the spokesperson for living a life of simplicity and non-attachment to stuff stood in the kitchen and cried (and I mean that quite literally) over the prospect of having to sell my antique postal-boxes-converted-to-a-storage-bin that I just LOVE. It is I who has picked up items over and over again during the past three days, only to move them to another part of the house to deal with "later." (Note that there is virtually no "later" as estate sale is to be held in three days!)
Jeremy even sold his favorite chair--the ugly one that I hated and he always claimed he'd take to his grave. And now, sweet Jesus in the morning, he's listed all his camera gear on Ebay. WTF!!! There is something very wrong with this picture. When I fake-casually mentioned that his unprecedented zeal is ummm......"different," he responded, "it's just stuff," followed by, "Anything you need at Home Depot? I'm making a quick trip to pick up hang tags for the estate sale."
It's just stuff! Running out the door for a "quick trip?" Who is this alien creature and where did my husband get off to???
My style has been like yesterday's example. I begin going through paper files to see what can be tossed, what can be scanned and what originals need to be kept. After a few minutes, I come across our tax folders. Realizing I should file our 2010 taxes before we hightail it out of here, I flit over to the computer, praying to the tax gods that we won't owe much. My piles of papers litter the floor behind me, but I'll get back to them "later." I work on the taxes, stopping occasionally to deal with a Lyssabeth's issue. About halfway through Schedule C, I recall that I had wanted to make some homemade yogurt, so out to the kitchen went I. Back to the taxes 30 minutes later, stop for lunch, check Facebook (while I eat so it doesn't count), finish taxes, make phone calls to clients, call my son-in-law to ask which Ipod I should buy, call daughter to see if she wants our television set, call other daughter to see if she wants my sewing machine. Lament to both girls about how frustrated I am that I can't get anything accomplished and Jeremy is making me look bad. Get up from chair, trip over pile of papers on the floor.
At least I didn't cry. And I did get the taxes done. And we only owe a couple hundred dollars.
I guess it's good for couples to exchange roles for a while--see how the other half lives, so to speak. I'm not sure what the deeper meaning of all this is, but at least one of us is getting stuff accomplished.
Hmmm...maybe I should call one of my daughters and talk about if for a while...
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
Or, to put in another way, when my world has been turned on its ear, it's reassuring to know that I can still count on the fact that as long as Jeremy lives and breathes, I will never have to take out the garbage.
Prescribed roles and personal rituals might be the one thing that secures my hold on sanity during this period of dishevelment and upheaval. So, imagine my chagrin as Jeremy has single-handedly decided to change the rules of our marital game over the past few days. In our relationship, my role has always been that of the go-getter. I am the one who concocts the ideas for the life-changing scenarios, then goes balls to the wall to make them happen in record time. While the rest of the world bemoans about how they hate to move, for example, I can categorize, list stuff on Craig's List, box, pack and load faster than you can say "U-Haul." Next!
Jeremy's job is to shake his head in amusement at my ideas for adventure but then ultimately come on board for a good time to be had by all. When the process of bringing the concept into reality begins, I am the fast one, the leaper, the let's-get-it-done-and-relax later person. Jeremy takes a more languorous approach. It's not that he's not into the spirit of things, it's just that he--as does the rest of the world--tends to move a bit slower than my warp speed. It's a problem sometimes. I bite my tongue when he takes a dog's age to get something accomplished. He keeps his lips sealed as I flutter about "in that way I have."
It works for us (most of the time).
In spite of the irritation we sometimes feel with each other's speediness (or lack thereof), it has come to define who we are. We've not only adjusted accordingly, we've learned to embrace our differences. When we are piled into the car and realize we've forgotten the cell phone, it's assumed that it will be me who dashes in to retrieve it. It's just easier than drumming my fingers impatiently on the wheel, while Jeremy maneuvers his 6'3" body out of the car, lumbers into the house, hunts around for the phone, goes to the bathroom, blows his nose, stops to watch an episode of Jeopardy, grabs a snack, reads War and Peace and then eventually emerges without the cell phone. In a fraction of that amount of time, I'd be in, out and halfway to our destination. Conversely, if something needs to be researched before making a decision, then Jeremy is the go-to guy in the relationship. He'll spend days or weeks checking out every resource imaginable and then present a full report, complete with editorial comments.
I am the hare, he is the tortoise and we like it that way.
 |
| How can I say goodbye? |
Jeremy even sold his favorite chair--the ugly one that I hated and he always claimed he'd take to his grave. And now, sweet Jesus in the morning, he's listed all his camera gear on Ebay. WTF!!! There is something very wrong with this picture. When I fake-casually mentioned that his unprecedented zeal is ummm......"different," he responded, "it's just stuff," followed by, "Anything you need at Home Depot? I'm making a quick trip to pick up hang tags for the estate sale."
It's just stuff! Running out the door for a "quick trip?" Who is this alien creature and where did my husband get off to???
My style has been like yesterday's example. I begin going through paper files to see what can be tossed, what can be scanned and what originals need to be kept. After a few minutes, I come across our tax folders. Realizing I should file our 2010 taxes before we hightail it out of here, I flit over to the computer, praying to the tax gods that we won't owe much. My piles of papers litter the floor behind me, but I'll get back to them "later." I work on the taxes, stopping occasionally to deal with a Lyssabeth's issue. About halfway through Schedule C, I recall that I had wanted to make some homemade yogurt, so out to the kitchen went I. Back to the taxes 30 minutes later, stop for lunch, check Facebook (while I eat so it doesn't count), finish taxes, make phone calls to clients, call my son-in-law to ask which Ipod I should buy, call daughter to see if she wants our television set, call other daughter to see if she wants my sewing machine. Lament to both girls about how frustrated I am that I can't get anything accomplished and Jeremy is making me look bad. Get up from chair, trip over pile of papers on the floor.
At least I didn't cry. And I did get the taxes done. And we only owe a couple hundred dollars.
I guess it's good for couples to exchange roles for a while--see how the other half lives, so to speak. I'm not sure what the deeper meaning of all this is, but at least one of us is getting stuff accomplished.
Hmmm...maybe I should call one of my daughters and talk about if for a while...
Maureen Thomson and Jeremy Myers are a husband and wife team offering professional housesitting services worldwide. Visit our HouseSitting Couple website for more information.
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