Sometimes I feel foolish being here, day after day. But it is the need of conversation and  a friend that I return. It is true that I am my own best friend. Who has walked in my shoes and see my exact point of view? I feel it is foolish to tell another, “I understand. I get it. I know where you are. Been there. Done that.” We each have our own unique experiences and way of seeing the world. We couldn’t possibly understand another’s. All I can do is accept another’s when they tell me. Believe and don’t try to change or contradict. That is my motto.

It is here that I get to talk without interruption or correction. No one will say, Who’s THEY?  No one will tell me I’m making assumptions. Before I go on and forget, I can tell you now who THEY are. They are our human tribe. I hope no one will demand who the THEY are from me any more. In my space, I can speak without judgement. No one will tell me that I say outloud what others would think only. It’s good I’ve unleashed my dark twin. I am getting a load off my mind.

Speaking of loads, it is quite difficult to rid them. Attachments have deep holds even though they serve no purpose. I felt so elated after doing my tax return this morning. It was a heavy load off my mind. In the process, I found that I’m not totally dizzy, ditzy and disorganized. I felt it was a good time to unload more of my outdated nursing texts and journals into the recycle bin. I gathered all the hard covered Nursing Skills manual. They were in excellent condition. I don’t think I’ve ever actually read one. Regret coursed through my body. I put them back on the shelf. Then I gathered them up again and ran outside. Into the bin they went. My logical self had asked: Of what purpose do they serve on the shelf for another 30 years?

My book shelves are getting thinned and dusted. I am sure I will experience more regret as I rid more of what is not needed anymore. It is not the books or objects that I am attached to. It is the memories they invoke. The regret over choices made, things not done, etc. There is only one path we can go down at any one time. Too bad we can’t straddle them all. Maybe hanging onto stuff is the straddle.  I’m afraid of letting go. It is really being stuck and unable to go forward.

The feelings of regret and pining over choices not made are human. They are short lived like the ones of a buyer’s regret. I remember I’ve said  “My God, what have I done!” over many purchases. All that evorporated with the enjoyment of the piano, house renovations, my Bernina sewing machine. I’m making real progress now, however slow it may be. An inch, a book, a square a day can add up to quite a bit in a year. I have alot of books but not 365 – I think.




When I show up late, it is difficult to find those first words. I flounder around, trying this and that. My mind is full of cobwebs. This afternoon I finally made a start clearing this very desk I’m sitting on. It was full of paper crap and dust. I was on hold to Sasktel and looking at it all. How long am I going to take before I attend to it? I started wiping a bit here and there. Got one area dusted before the Sasktel person got back to me. Another billing hitch worked out again.

It all goes to remind me how much of our lives are caught up in paper, whether it’s on hard copy or virtual. I have trouble dealing with either form. The truth is I don’t deal with it at all till absolutely necessary. It is THE reason why everything is so hard. I really want somebody else to take care of – EVERYTHING for me. Of course, that never happens nor is it possible. Everyone is responsible for their own shit and should take care of it themselves. Of course, we know that is not always the case. I decided I might as well get my head out of the sand and deal with the truth.

The truth is my shit includes some of others’. Acknowledging and accepting that will lift the emotional part of the burden. I have to look at it in an impersonal and impassionate way. I see it. That’s half the battle. Life is short and shorter when you’re in the retirement age bracket. I do not want to tap forever about my dust, paper crap and other angst. My plan for this month is to clear all the crap. It needs a deadline.

I’m not thinking too clearly now that I’ve had my glass of wine. But here’s the plan. Whatever I come across that doesn’t have a use and can’t be recycled will be tossed into the garbage. I have already tossed numerous post-it-note, memo and other pads into the recycle bin. How many pads or scrap paper do I need? How many lists do I make – none. There are several heavy outdated textbooks in the bin also. School is over. So is work. I’ve shredded a bundle of old bills and receipts. I have to let go of hanging onto every scrap of paper as security or proof of my worth. I have to hang on to my life instead.

Enough crap said. I’ve laid bare my soul. Tormorrow is another day.



I feel very tired and cross after my second day of excavating the rubble in the basement. I am making progress but it is always a bigger job than I envision. It always is. And I would abandon the project time and time again. I should have been listening to Benjamin Franklin when he said, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” I haven’t done any maintenance work in the basement for two years. I take things down but nothing comes up – not even dust. Now I’m paying the price. I’ll probably be a few pounds heavier after I’m done. It’s hard and stressful. I’m snacking.

I’m trying to be more efficient and tough with the stuff – recycle or throw out. No saving in case of it might come in handy later. Some things are difficult to recycle because frankly people rather get new stuff. I hate cluttering up the landfill with my stuff, so for now the rowing machine, exercise bike, mini stepper and slant board are in the garage. Maybe in summer I will bring them out as free grabs. Then what do you do with all those cutesy baskets and containers? I blame them for my accumulation of stuff. Then there’s my very old computer. How do you get all the data off the hard drive – smash it? And how do you get the hard drive out of the tower? I suppose I should ask at a computer store.

I’m feeling better, not so cross or tired. I just ate a bowl of chips. They help rid the dust in my throat. Yes, it is a little dusty down there with a few cobwebs. I should be ashamed of myself but what good would that do? I’m feeling bogged down as it is. Shame would add to the load. So no thanks to shame or blame. Life happens as they say. Tomorrow I will do a little more and a little better.


I feel like I’m always mired in my stuff. Once upon a time I had an excuse of working and shiftwork at that. That excuse is wearing thin now that I am retired. AND I have more stuff. Not that I am a shopaholic. Quite the contrary, but I did purchased a new sewing machine just before Christmas. It is quite big with an embroidery module and accessories. I haven’t bought fabric either. I don’t need to since I’ve been stashing them away over the years from – sales, projects, closing out sales, etc. I have the equivalent of 3 big totes. Overwhelming – yes!

Now I am in the process of organizing and making space. It’s difficult to see what I have or don’t have. Everything crammed together. No space to walk, never mind spread the stuff out. This morning I bit the dust (literally) and finished tackling my sewing stuff. At least now there’s room to move – and to create. I can see why sorting and clearing is such a difficult task. Memories are evoked from handling some of the items. Cleaning and sorting the contents of my sewing basket, I remembered my mom gave it to me when I bought my Kenmore. She stocked it with scissors and a few more items.

She taught me how to sew and knit. She must have been a good teacher because usually I’m not good at learning from verbal instructions. I have to read the directions. I have been sewing since high school. I designed and made my graduation gown. I never thought much of it then. It looks pretty good to me now. It gives me pleasure seeing it. I wonder if my mother still has it. I made my sister’s high school grad dress, too. I took special care finishing all the raw seams. I remembered she was recovering from a concussion that spring. She was struck by a car at a pedestrian crosswalk.

These are all good memories. They make me nostalgic, yearning for those bygone days. I didn’t know then how sweet everything was, even the tough times. I feel a tad sad with some regrets. It comes with being human. Who doesn’t have regrets, wanting things that aren’t and can’t be in retrospect? It’s really not a bad thing. It can inspire me towards reaching outward, upward and all around me to make dreams come true. Now for a spot of tea. Sheba and I have made a run to the dog park. We stopped at Sarcan and dropped off some old phones, bottles and cans. We made $8.00. We made space. We are proud.


A little while ago, I was thinking that I’ve been feeling and doing quite well. I haven’t had my usual miseries of sinus problems, aches and pains and the blues for a long time. Be careful of what you think! Lo and behold, my said maladies paid me a visit. Maybe it’s not my thoughts that brought them forth. Rather, I was receiving advance warnings of their imminence. I like to think it was that.

It’s so cloudy today and oh my gosh, I’m so tired! Complaining again. It makes me feel better just to let it all out. It’s only here, in my own space. Who else would give a care? I’m sure they’re probably feeling the same. It serves me right taking 2 weeks off, sitting on duff – well, not entirely the whole time. Sheba and I still had our daily walks. Goes to show a daily walk with the dog is not much exercise even in freezing rain. It’s good we’ve gone and come. I’m warming up with my tea. She’s laid out on her bed quiet as can be. Shhh!

I’m trying to organize my thoughts. I didn’t think  a swim on Sunday and an hour of aerobics yesterday would cause me such fatigue. But it has. The clouds adds to it. But that is my life, like it or not. I’m trying to make it work better. How can I make my life smoother and more productive with my energy level? I’m listening to some of my own ideas. Re-scheduling activities to different time slots and see how that works. Someone wrote a post on recyling old content for a fresh and new article. I could use the idea for other things besides writing.

Day 7 – Feeling some purple and red and off colour anger. Unable to make a picture today

Daisy Yellow has pointers on the 365 Something Projects. I am on my Day 8 of the project. Doing something creative every day does lead to more creativity. Things get easier and flow starts. I will have to apply that ‘do something every day’ to organizing my desk, the dining table where I do my 365 Somethings Project, my painting studio, my sewing space – in other words, the whole house! Maybe I could chart my progress here. That would make me accountable. I shall do it! I am already trying to pick up and put away as I go along today. Does that get points for me?