The Jewelry Box

On dark and gloomy days with nothing but rain, I pick my projects with care. I needed a project that kept me indoors, required little sunlight, and, most important of all, could be done with what I had on hand. The top of our dresser and the jewelry box that calls it home met all my requirements.

I had the Mister buy me the jewelry box as a birthday present when The Bombay Company went out of business in 2008. (Look! They were bought and are now a privately owned Canadian company.) He thought it was a strange request, and asked me twice if I was sure. Of course I was sure! I was sure I couldn’t fit one more earring in our thin, barely functioning top dresser drawers. I don’t know if it’s operator error, a product malfunction, or the way it’s supposed to be, but the drawers open about 2/3 of the way out. It’s difficult to store items in the drawers, and impossible to easily reach anything in the back. That’s why they look like this.

The perspective is deceiving in this picture. They open about 6 inches, and yet are the same depth as the rest of the drawers. We’ve looked for locks, stops, and safety tracks but haven’t found a thing. I guess top drawers aren’t meant to pull out all the way.

In 2008, it didn’t occur to me to purge our top drawers. I was just starting to acquire an interest in simple living, voluntary simplicity, and intentional living. Buying another container to contain more stuff seemed logical, and by the time I realized it wasn’t, I wanted to tackle areas with more impact. So the evidence of a life lived somewhat chaotically continued to pile.

(Sorry about the wall-eyed pictures. I don’t have the right lens for these tight quarter shots.)

The usual. Empty. Separate: Trash; Donate; Keep.

The wonky drawers received the same treatment.

Unlike most of my projects that require 800 trash bags, empty boxes, or laundry hampers, I was able to collect all the trash in one Target bag. If you consider an entire Target bag of trash collected for years in two drawers and a jewelry box, it’s not nearly as comforting.

I could easily get rid of the jewelry box and fit everything inside the two drawers, provided I find jewelry compartments to make containing them and accessing them easy. I held off on that because (1) it would be a budget breaker and (2) I’m not sure that is the route to take. I want to think about it for a while and see what would make most sense.

I’m excited I have room for more jewelry! That sounds silly, perhaps, but I love jewelry. I haven’t bought any in a while because I didn’t want to add to the clutter, not realizing that if I did a simple, 45 minute purge I would have plenty of room for pieces I would use  and love.

This project isn’t about living at the bare minimum like some Russian prisoner, scooping out thin grewl from a wooden bowl with a day old piece of bread crust. Nor do I anticipate whittling down my possessions to less than 100 items. Thanks, but no thanks. This is only about creating in an intentional home and living an intentional life. I like jewelry, so I will continue to buy jewelry–from now on I will be more conscious of getting rid of jewelry, too.

The vase in the first picture was the first thing I got rid of. I bought it years ago and had it on a sideboard we later sold. I felt guilty for not using it, so I moved it into the bedroom. I never liked it (I bought it 7 years ago when I thought I could live with aqua in my house) but didn’t want to admit I wasted money. I put it in the sell/donate pile today. This project is about owning and moving past your mistakes, too.

::::::

This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.

::::::

Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Tell us about it with a link or comment.

A few guidelines:

1. Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
2. Your post must relate to your efforts to create an intentional home.
3. No links to giveaways, please.
4. A link back to this site is always appreciated. There are buttons to add to your post or sidebar, too, thanks to the lovely Alex, of Type A Calligraphy. Just copy the code and insert into your blog post or sidebar while in html mode.
5. Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_375sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_125sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=border:none;” /></a></div>

How to Store Wrapping Supplies (One of Two Decabillion Ways)

I’ll start today by admitting I have no idea how that vase of lavender ended up in front of the painting, practically dead center. I vaguely remember something about a football crashing into it, lavender buds flying like confetti, and Mikey saying, “Well, at least now we can smell the lavender.” File this one under Life with Boys.

Let’s focus, instead, on wrapping paper. Specifically, the wrapping paper I left in limbo back in October. As planned, I used as much of it as I could during Christmas and did not buy anything to supplement my already embarrassing supply of cheap paper. I barely made a dent in the cheapness, and after today I have a new rule: No cheap wrapping paper, ever. I have a couple of reasons, outlined below.

1. Cheap wrapping paper comes in rolls that are either too meager or too plentiful. It’s the hotdog buns of stationery. I either don’t have enough, or I’m left with too much.
2. Cheap wrapping paper doesn’t store well. The color fades or bleeds (both, in my case) and wrinkles or tears easily.
3. Cheap wrapping paper is often impossibly trendy. What I loved in 2009 left me scratching my head in 2011–and wishing I could buy something else.
4. Cheap paper is easy to buy in quantity. If I am shopping intentionally and thoughtfully (and not just buying junk in bulk), I don’t need that much paper. This allows me the room in my budget to buy the beautiful, more expensive wrapping paper I’ve always looked at wistfully.

Allow me to be your wrapping paper cautionary tale. Stay away from the cheap paper.

I decided to store the wrapping paper in our campaign dresser. I love this thing. It has a fairly small footprint, and yet it is capable of storing 99% of the contents of our home, as the above picture details. I could have tossed the paper in one of the three empty drawers, but I am committed to having an intentional home from top to bottom, inside and out.

First thing first: take everything out and start sorting.

Bows, ribbons, ties.

Cheap wrapping paper.

Stamps.

Stickers, paper.

I also have scissors, slicers, hole punches, and other supplies that I didn’t photograph because the only thing less exciting than a picture of a pile of stickers is a picture of a pile of scissors.

I started with the wrapping paper, since I needed room to maneuver in tight quarters. I was ruthless, but ecstatic. I gave myself permission to ignore the fact I wasted money and instead rejoice in what I was gaining by recycling paper that was cheap, torn, or faded. Then I tossed rolls that were almost depleted or didn’t have enough paper to wrap a standard box. I’m notorious for keeping random sized strips of paper in case I might one day need to wrap, I don’t know, a wand.

That left me with a roll of parcel paper and one roll of good quality birthday paper. I can’t even. Shame face! (Let’s not talk about the tension rod I found among the rolls of paper.) (Although I could have totally wrapped that sucker with one of my many random strips of paper.)

I thinned out the bows (gave them to my mom), ribbons, and ties, too.

I placed them, for now, in an empty Tupperware container I had laying around. Eventually I will put them in a clear, lidded container or photo box.

I used an extra photo-box to contain my stamps.

The paper, stickers, and random holiday cards I stored in an accordion file I found in the Mister’s office. It won’t win a beauty pageant, but the solution works well for now. One day years from now, when I’m walking around the house looking for something to do, I’ll replace the accordion with one that is prettier.

The scissors, tape, et al went into a basket I found in the kitchen last October. Again, one day I will replace this set up with a lidded container.

But for now, everything fits together like the most perfect game of Tetris. I have everything in one location, easy to pull out and access. I love it.

The two rolls of wrapping paper are in the drawer to the left, along with 2394834 rolls of crepe paper. Don’t worry, today is Nicholas’s 5th birthday (!!!) and I am probably tied up in 50% of it as you read this. The supply should be thinned out by the end of the day, and what’s left I will put in a box. The parcel paper roll is too long. I’m glad I don’t have much left–the next roll I buy will fit the drawer dimensions.

Whew. 19 images, y’all. Mama is cross-eyed.

::::::

This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.

::::::

Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Tell us about it with a link or comment.

A few guidelines:

1. Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
2. Your post must relate to your efforts to create an intentional home.
3. No links to giveaways, please.
4. A link back to this site is always appreciated. There are buttons to add to your post or sidebar, too, thanks to the lovely Alex, of Type A Calligraphy. Just copy the code and insert into your blog post or sidebar while in html mode.
5. Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_375sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_125sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

 

Updates to the Living Room

As more people hear about The William Morris Project (thank you to all who are spreading the word) I realized that the biggest mess around here is my blog! If someone were to stop by via link to one of my William Morris posts, their first thought would undoubtedly be, “Huh?” I have no explanation, no links to previous posts, and no way for regular readers to track what I’ve done.

Oops!

I’ve also done a few projects around the house and don’t have a picture to show for my work. Double oops!

Take the living room, for example.

A few weeks ago I uploaded these images to Craigslist because, as my list so clearly states, I wanted to sell the mid century china cabinet we used in the dining room. Except we moved it into the living room to break up the world largest expanse of blank wall. Likewise with the two framed photographs.

I moved the cabinet from the dining room to the living room and then straight out the door to strangers from Burbank. See how I did that without any photographic documentation?

We have rugs now, too. More things to mark off the list without documentation! I’ll talk about the large, beautiful flat-weave that I refused to settle on another day, but suffice to say we kicked it into gear when Mikey looked around the room after all the Christmas decorations were gone and said, “I’m sad. This house looks lonely and empty.”

A shot to the heart, but only more so because he was right. With just two chairs, a coffee table, and a sofa, voices echoed off the floors and walls. It looked like someone was moving in or moving out, but not living here. Enter the large rug. For our anniversary we bought a Koldby from IKEA.

People have strong opinions about cowhides. They either love them, hate them, or think they are trendy. I can see all viewpoints, but they remind me my childhood. Being from Argentina, they were ubiquitous in our home. My mom has three on the walls in her office alone. I do think it’s funny they are so popular now. Crazy, when I think of how many people in high school and college teased me about them.

For now, our living room looks like this.

I had plans to sell this other china cabinet on Craigslist, too, but once the mid century cabinet left, I knew I had to put something in its place, at least temporarily. It will be a while before we can afford to replace it, but right now I am debating between an upright piano (I played for 11 years) or a low sitting set of bookshelves with an assortment of family pictures on top. Similar to this, but not quite so cluttered.

On Sunday, after my solitary walk, I went home feeling inspired. I unloaded the IKEA china cabinet and put everything on the dining room table. (Picture it, because I forgot to take a picture.) Then, the Mister and I moved the cabinet to its placeholder position and I spent the better part of an hour fiddle-faddling with the contents.

The bucket of white flowers is 12 years old. The vase and obscenely large candle stick (I mean, really) is around 7 years old.

Not willing to spend one red cent but aware of the decorating lesson I had just learned, I went around the house and tried to find accessories, which I generally loathe. Don’t get me wrong, I like accessories and think they make a house look homey. I just find most of them are insincere or staged for me. It’s a bit like wearing red lipstick. It looks good on everyone else, but when I do it I feel like I’m playing in my mom’s makeup drawer.

Basically, the story we have here is of a woman who was once timid, but now isn’t. She was once rushed, looking to make things work, but is now willing to wait until she finds just the right thingamabob to pretty up the coffee table. (Most likely books, rocks, and plants or a terrarium.) Also, she lives with people with severe allergies and is still looking for a candle that won’t make someone sneeze or get itchy, runny eyes. The odds aren’t looking good.

I have such plans for that large corner in the window. I see a round library or tea table stacked with books, plants, a vintage bust (I’ve always wanted one!), or even a globe. I thought this globe was snazzy, and didn’t even balk at the price. This project taught me to buy for life, and therefore prices aren’t as intimidating anymore. Only cheaply made, disposable items should have a too good to be true price, and that’s because you need to account for buying items two and three times over before you learn your lesson. If I loved it enough to buy it, I would save my money, sell items I don’t love or need, and wait until I could afford the darn globe. If it’s gone by the time I can buy it, it wasn’t meant to be. That’s neither here nor there, unfortunately, because I think the globe is too big. I would need something more petite for the size table I can fit in that corner. That’s okay–that gives me more room for a freaky bust!

::::::

This post was part of The William Morris Project, a weekly series that details the steps I am taking to create an intentional home. You can see more of my goals and completed projects here. To learn more about this project, start here.

::::::

Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Let’s hear it with a link or in the comments.

A few guidelines:

1. Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
2. No links to giveaways, please.
3. A link back to this site is always appreciated. There are buttons to add to your post or sidebar, too, thanks to the lovely Alex, of Type A Calligraphy. Just copy the code and insert into your blog post or sidebar while in html mode.
4. Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_375sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_125sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

 

Too Much Storage

A welcome effect of living by the William Morris quote and creating an intentional home is that eventually you reach a point where you have too much storage. I know, crazy-talk, but unless you live in a home without closets, it is possible. Possible with sweat equity and capital, but possible nonetheless.

Take the Leksvik, for example. We kept this in our dining room to store many things. Last week we finally bought a dining room table (hurray!) and that meant there was no longer room for what officially became the clutter-catcher. No matter, since I already had it placed on Craigslist. I knew by looking through its cluttered glass doors that whatever it contained I could keep more organized somewhere else. I moved it to the back porch and hoped for the best. As luck would have it, someone offered to buy Leksvik only two days later. SOLD!

They gave me two hours notice on the coldest, windiest day of the season, but beggars can’t be choosers. I thought I could tackle the Great-Clutter Catcher Purge of 2012! before they arrived, but it was so cold and windy I was afraid all the loose photographs and paper would go flying.

Also, I didn’t feel like it. It looked like a lot of work.

I put everything inside an old laundry basket and placed it in the living room. Then I wiped everything down and gave Leksvik a quick polish. You so want to buy furniture off me on Craigslist. I pretty them up like they’re on their way to their first day of school.

The laundry basket of clutter stayed in my living room for only 24 hours before I sat down to toss/donate/keep.

[Pause. Wait for applause.]

I separated everything into groups, too. Both cookbooks went into a kitchen pile. I had an unusual amount of Christmas items, so those went into a pile, too.

Oddly enough, this introverted recluse who hates to socialize owns an obscene amount of party supplies. I like the idea of parties, or so it would seem.

That’s it! It took me less than an hour to place everything (haphazardly) in their new homes. This was good. I planned to tackle my wrapping paper storage issues, so I’m glad I was able to first uncover the last of the hidden supplies.

I can’t end the post with such a mediocre image, so I thought I’d share something else I found during the Great Clutter-Catcher Purge of 2012!

It’s a picture of the Mister when he was Nicholas’s age. I can really see the resemblance. People often say Nicholas looks like me, but I’ve never seen it. I’ve always thought he looks just like my husband.

Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Let’s hear it with a link or in the comments.

A few guidelines:

1. Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
2. No links to giveaways, please.
3. A link back to this site is always appreciated. There are buttons to add to your post or sidebar, too, thanks to the lovely Alex, of Type A Calligraphy. Just copy the code and insert into your blog post or sidebar while in html mode.
4. Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_375sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_125sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

 

Return All the Things

If ever I needed proof of my type-A personality, my suffocating need for achievement and perfection, or my tendency to over-think, over-analyze, and over-everything, I could point to my 25th birthday present. My mom, aware of what I really needed, bought me Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach. But I won’t, because it is far more telling that I never opened the book until this summer, 14 years after the fact.

Of course, I opened it back then on my birthday. I read the inscription and smiled, as good daughters do. I even carried it with me on the flight home (I was visiting my parents in Lake Tahoe) and when the pretty Indian woman in her 30s leaned over to ask me what I thought of the book, I looked down at the book in my lap and said, “I haven’t read it, but I’m sure it’s good.” She smiled back with a look that said she knew me.

I found the book in my childhood room, lost among all the other books. It was shortly after Helena’s parents died, and I grabbed it because it seemed much more relevant 14 years later. I had changed.

Then I opened the book and noticed it was a devotional of sorts, that there is a short essay for each day of the year and that the first date is, naturally, January 1. The introduction said to not worry about dates, and that “if this book finds you in April, don’t think that you can’t use it.”

I closed the book again–this time bringing it home for safekeeping–and made a mental note to start reading in January. I hadn’t changed that much.

On January 3rd, I read the following.

There are six principles that will act as guides as we make our inner journey over the next year. These are the six threads of abundant living which, when woven together, produce a tapestry of contentment that wraps us in inner peace, well-being, happiness, and a sense of security. First, there is gratitude. When we do a mental and spiritual inventory of all that we have, we realize that we are very rich indeed. Gratitude gives way to simplicity–the desire to clear out, pare down, and realize the essentials of what we need to live truly well. Simplicity brings with it order, both internally and externally. A sense of order in our life brings us harmony. Harmony provides us with the inner peace we need to appreciate the beauty that surrounds us each day, and beauty opens us to joy. But just as with any beautiful needlepoint tapestry, it is difficult to see where one stitch ends and another begins. So it is with Simple Abundance.

I wrote the word Excellent in the margin.

It was the very thing I needed to hear, that it’s okay many of the projects I do are practical, boring, not even remotely pinnable. There is an order to things, and before I can get to zshushing I have to work on the foundation. Otherwise, it’s just lipstick on a pig.

We hosted a dinner for out of town relatives a few days before Christmas. Our advent candles had burned down low, so I made a quick visit to Michael’s for more. I found the pretty gold candles on sale for a ridiculously low price and, thinking they would look lovely on the table, bought two boxes of four. I was right. They were lovely. That is, until they burned for more than a few seconds, and their marked down, too-good-to-be-true price made sense. (Not cents.)

They melted. They melted everywhere, and fast enough that you would think someone held a blow torch to the wick. They melted down the candle, down the candlestick, and pooled on the antique table we are borrowing from my mom. The table is flimsy and of little value, but that didn’t make scraping wax off the finish any less annoying. Stupid, cheap, golden candles.

After Christmas, I was left with an annoying decision. I knew I would never again use the candles, but I didn’t want to throw them out, either. It seemed wasteful, even though I didn’t spend that much. And it was the small amount of money I spent that presented the problem: large enough to keep me from tossing them out, small enough to make me put off returning them. Before this summer, before October, and before the estate sale, I might have kept them just in case. Or, I might have stored them so I could sell them at a future garage sale.

Storing worthless candles I have no intention of using so I can salve my ego or make 50¢ at a mythical garage sale is silly. Taking the time to tuck them away in pretty organizing bins is putting lipstick on a pig.

I returned them. I waited until I had errands that would put me near a Michael’s and walked out ten minutes later with, I don’t know, maybe $5? It seems silly, but these little purchases here and there add up. I keep my returns under the entry table in my kitchen, always in plain view, so it’s the last thing I see when I leave the house. I don’t store them in baskets or make them look pretty. I’ll forget them if I do. Instead, I let them plague me like an unwanted suitor until I can’t take it anymore. I returned a box of candles at Michael’s, two duplicate toys at Target, a purse and a necklace at Macy’s. Suddenly, I have money to work on projects around the house.

Inches make champions.

Return all the things. I did.

::::::

Now it’s your turn! Feel free to share how you have lived according to the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” Made a plan? Cleaned a drawer? Bought a sofa? Let’s hear it with a link or in the comments.

A few guidelines:

1. Please link to a specific post, not a general blog address.
2. No links to giveaways, please.
3. A link back to this site is always appreciated. There are buttons to add to your post or sidebar, too, thanks to the lovely Alex of Type A Calligraphy. Just copy the code and insert into your blog post or sidebar when in html mode.
4. Let’s use this weekly link up as an opportunity to gather inspiration and motivation. Click links. Discover new people. Say hi and good job. I know I will.

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_375sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

<div align=”center”><a href=”http://pancakesandfrenchfries.com” title=”Pancakes and French Fries”><img src=”http://www.pancakesandfrenchfries.com/banners/useful_beautiful_wreath_125sq.jpg” alt=”Pancakes and French Fries” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>