I Knew All The Grooves

Cue The Beastie Boys:

SHE'S CRAFTY!

Photo credit: http://www.last.fm/music/Beastie+Boys/Girls+%2F+She's+Crafty

My family leaves for Ireland in 6 days.  Six.  I knew I'd have a hard time packing (I always do). My ADHD makes it difficult for me to plan, organize, and focus.  Typically when it comes to packing for a trip, I get it all done, but at the very last minute, and as a result of complete and utter fear of missing a plane or upsetting my husband.  Packing is not only stressful for me; it's absolutely terrifying and exhausting.

Well we're not just leaving for a vacation.  We're moving for six months.  Annnnnd... our good friends, T and T, plus their kitty Nermal and doggy Tucker (yes, another Tucker!) are going to live in our house and take care of our own kitty and doggy.  So we're not just preparing to go on a trip -- we're prepping for a zoo to move in.  The realistic side of me (it's tiny, but it's there) says, "They're our friends!  The house doesn't have to be perfect.  They won't judge, and they won't notice if every nook and cranny isn't clean and organized."  But my perfectionist side (about 99% of me) screams, "Make it comfortable for them!  Leave the house in tip-top shape!  Make it feel like home."  What an incredible struggle!

You'll see in my last post that this purging and organizing project has taken on a life of its own.  Our "moving to Ireland" adventure has turned into uncovering years of issues, regret, memories, unfinished projects, and uncertainty.  It's been stuffed under beds, in closets, bins and drawers, and [insert random hiding place here].  It has overflowed into our daily lives and consumed most of my time and sanity.  I found gifts that I made for people that were almost finished, but never given.  Thank you cards that were written out but never sent, including some from our wedding (that's hard to admit). Lesson plans, books, term papers, etc., from graduate school (this one stings, because I received my teaching license years ago but haven't had the strength to become a teacher).  I uncovered seven years of layers that developed because I thought that if I got rid of these things, it meant that I truly failed.  And that's been a tough pill to swallow.

I'm happy to report, however, that since last week, I've taken 15 huge bags to Goodwill.  I had a minor panic attack and freak out as I drove away from the drop off center, but after a few hours I did, thank goodness, feel REALLY good.  And that has sparked the momentum for me to -ahem- actually FINISH a project!  I purged, organized and cleaned an entire room.  Our downstairs guest bedroom / Chrissy's craft room is DONE.  I actually took enough (prescribed!) Ritalin, stayed up until 2 a.m. on numerous occasions, and expelled enough grit to amazingly complete something.  It's rare for me to be able to say that, and boy, does it feels good.

Here's the BEFORE:

Here's AFTER:

I found a cat!  I really am a hoarder! ;-)

I did it with the help of The Beastie Boys.  Although the song "She's Crafty" by the Beastie Boys is about a girl who is a thief, I still took inspiration from the lyrics and created my own mantra.

D pulled me over, said, "Hide your gold.
The girl is crafty like ice is cold!"
The girl is crafty - she knows all the moves
I started playing records - she knew all the grooves...

In regard to this particular project, I DID know all the grooves.  Basically, I could look at the disaster of a room that we had last week, and could visualize exactly how I wanted it to look.  The ins and outs, the decor, the warmth and overall feeling one would get when they walked in.  I knew all the moves...exactly where I wanted things to go.  Due to my hoarding tendencies, however, and my lack of planning skills, I wasn't aware of the time and effort it would take to get it done.  Story of my life.

Turns out...um...it took 5 days.  I lost track of the number of hours, but it was way too many.  I even made a trip to Ace Hardware for paint for the inside of the craft closet, and instead of packing up my clothes and things for the move to Ireland, I painted the inside of the closet, because I'm crafty like ice is cold (and don't you forget it).  Just not efficient, like my industrial engineer husband.  He must really love me to the moon and back for respecting my "process" and not judging me.  He actually walked in on me at midnight while I was painting said closet and instead of asking me questions like, "WHY would you be painting when we're moving in a week and the house is a disaster?" or, "How much did that paint cost?" or, "Is this really the best use of your time?" he merely said, "Well Chrissy, the bus to Ireland leaves next Tuesday.  I'd love for you to be on it with us."  What a gem, that guy...

Anyway, I hope T and T feel inspired to knit something while they live in our house.  Or make a greeting card.  Or paint, draw, make jewelry, etc.  If not, it will all be waiting for me when we return from Ireland, because...

SHE'S CRAFTY!
She gets around (She's crafty!)
She's always down (She's crafty!)
She's got a gripe (She's crafty!)
And she's just my type (She's craftyyyyyy...)

Let's just hope my craftiness doesn't make me miss the bus.  That will warrant an entirely different blog post (oi!).

Ramble knowing all the grooves,
The Rambling Richter

There's a Hole in My Bucket

Dear Liza, a hole.

(photo credit:  http://shootingparrots.co.uk/2011/12/05/theres-a-hole-in-my-bucket)

"Use your head then, dear Chrissy!  Dear Chrissy! Dear Chrissy!"

(Unfamiliar with "There's a Hole in My Bucket?"  Brush up here.)

My bucket = My life.  Home.  Wardrobe.  Closet.  Cabinets.  Relationships. Emotional state and well-being. STUFF.

The holes? (PLEASE don't call the television show Hoarders...the following is part of a huge purge and organizing project.  I typically don't live this way on a daily basis!)

My bucket runneth over.  Stay tuned for future posts to see how I attempt to mend it before my family moves to Ireland in 13 (yikes...13!) days.

Ramble using your head then, your head then, your head then,
The Rambling Richter