Unplugged

Once a year my husband and I step off the hamster wheel of daily life and take a week-long vacation to a cabin filled with solitude and serenity. The days leading up to our departure date, however, are anything but serene. Both of us experience moments of frenzy and frazzledness as we snarl our way through vacation preparations. The question is often asked, "Is this really worth it?" It would certainly be easier to stay home, but without a shadow of a doubt I know that our mental health depends on occasionally fracturing the mundane. With that in mind, suitcases are packed, meals are planned and supplies are wrestled into the vehicle. We grimly head down the road and wait for the cloak of demands to melt away.

During the first 24-48 hours, the vacation valves slowly release the tyranny of routine demands and we settle into a luxurious calm. Here is a pictorial rendering of my top ten reasons for committing to vacations each year.

...being welcomed in beastly style.

...wicking off the day's ills with a fluffy white towel. (My household towels should have an expiration date. They are no longer fluffy and white is too dangerous.)

...reading, glorious reading.

...nestling into a comfy reading chair.

...nodding off for a mid-afternoon nap, or mid-morning, or both.

...sipping freshly ground coffee, many cups.

...acquiescing to new trails.

...making new friends.

...relinquishing cell phone service. (My personal favorite.)

...greeting a full moon, veranda style.

I hope you are able to spend a few days vacationing this summer. Rest assured, your mental health will send you a postcard thanking you for it.

Order

Closet of Shame

No one will ever accuse me of being compulsively neat and clean. Clutter, however, is another story. Piles of mish mash and corners filled with lumpy bumpy stuff are like a mosquito in my ear. Ignoring never works and finally the time comes for the big swat. Near the end of each school year, my mantra is, "Leave it until school is out."  No surprise the cobwebs are now the size of small children and closets are bulging with detritus. As much as I would like to head to the library and load up on books, I have no choice but to dig in to the mosh pit of messiness.

Task number one is the living room, the least cluttered so the sense of accomplishment is most readily forthcoming. I had the piano tuner and the cable technician scheduled so there was heightened need for a little spiffing up. The piano was an easy gig with a quick swipe down and vacuuming the back area. The entertainment center, however, was another story. I unplugged three pieces of equipment before I found the cord I was looking for in the spaghetti mess of cords. Dust was fluffling up everywhere and hanging my head upside down was doing nothing for my balance. I tried to ignore random items stuffed in the base cabinets of the entertainment center but there was nowhere to go for future storage unless action was taken. Bravely, I parted with our complete collection of Boston Legal and Northern Exposure. Cassette tapes were also pitched due to the ancient factor. And I deemed it unnecessary to hold on to random remotes, cords and owner's manuals. No doubt, we will need something I threw away but I am ready to move on.

Task number two is the biggie, the hall closet. It is a magnet for everything from stray gloves to light bulbs to Gladware containers to cleaning supplies. By the end of the school year there is not one unoccupied square inch of space on any of the shelves. Serious intervention is necessary. The only way to tackle the job is to unload everything (see above) and pick through the mountain item by item. A draconian hand is needed at this point. The bowl with the pretty pumpkins painted on it that I have never used must go. The smushed pile of napkins is also a goner. Gloves with no mates, good bye. The potato that made the great escape to the back corner will live no more. Finally, the herd is culled and all the goods are sorted and organized shelf by shelf. Truly, I feel the heavens rejoice when the job is done. I know the feeling will be short lived as empty shelf space taunts us back into bad habits but for the time being, peace reigns.

Despite my early accomplishments, I am waning in exuberance. The goal is one room or closet a day. I just finished one of the bedrooms and the dust bunnies were frightful. Sorta took the wind out of my sails. I am hoping to persevere but the books and coffee breaks are singing their sweet song of seduction. It might be time for my other mantra, "Shut the door and look away."

Closet project