All I Want for Christmas Is . . .

All I want for Christmas is a Christmas card. Yes, a card. With a pretty picture on the front and words, penned by you, on the inside.

Heartfelt thoughts. Well wishes. Future plans. A remember-when story. Whatever feels right. Whatever feels true.

Sure, I like things. Cozy sweaters, sparkly jewelry, and decorative knick-knacks. I do. But really, I have plenty. Your words, however, are one of a kind. Something I can treasure forever.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because our mailboxes should be fillied with joy, not junk mail. (Photo by Aunt Owwee via Creative Commons.)

E-Mail Clutter: Just Say Unsubscribe

Right now, do yourself a favor:

  • Go to your e-mail box and click on one of those unread messages. (I bet it’s from some mailing list you got on because you once made a purchase here. Three years ago. Am I right?)
  • Scroll to the bottom of the message and click on “Unsubscribe.”
  • Do it again.
  • And again.
  • And again.

There, doesn’t that feel better?

You have enough untended-to things going on in your life. Why should unread (and unnecessary) e-mails contribute to the chaos?

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because keeping up with e-mail is a lot like playing whack-a-mole--don't you think? (Photo by TPapi via Creative Commons.)

Theo Can't Fly

I’ve been carrying around this piece of pink paper for years. On it is a poem that I wrote in the hours between school and supper back in December 1981. I was in the second grade, and could entertain myself for hours with my pink doodle paper, markers, crayons, and imagination.

Trying to keep my lines straight was no small feat. I can remember writing out several versions, but my words just kept sloping down. Even still, I was quite proud of my creation. Especially sounding out all those big words. Like pueugeuns.

But carrying around this relic of my youth—one of my earliest writings—was getting to be burdensome. Every year or so, I’d come across it somewhere in our house—filed with invoices from the vet, tucked inside of a notebook, buried under blank notecards and address labels from the MSPCA—and think to myself, someday I should really do something with that.

Finally, in a mini decluttering spree a couple of weeks ago, I decided to take action. I brought it to the framers. I’m so happy with how it turned out! Now I just need to find somewhere to hang it . . .

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because my walls are decidedly less cluttered than my drawers. 

The Yellow Handbag

I was bad. A few weeks ago, I splurged on a new handbag. A cheerful, yellow handbag. Of course, I didn't really need for a new handbag. Nor was it in the budget. But it was on sale. And did I mention, yellow? I picked the handbag up off the shelf--the only one of its size, shape, and color--and draped it over my shoulder while posing in front of a full-length mirror. The image reflected back to me was summery and bright. Exactly what I was craving after this June's never-ending rain. Exactly what I was craving after so many months of being extra mindful of our expenses. I deserved it. Woozy with want, that bag was mine.

At home, I tucked my timeless old leather Coach bags into the closet, vowing to make the most of my new purchase. From here until Labor Day, it would be my go-to bag. The following day, with my cell phone, lip gloss, notebook, sunglasses, pens, and calendar all in place, I carried the bag with me to work--along with a whole lot of buyer's remorse.

What was I thinking?

Money aside, I had just willingly brought a new piece of unnecessary clutter into our home. A cardinal sin of good karma housekeeping. Plus, frivolous purchases are so last year.

Generous return policies certainly help, but I believe that saying no at the cash register--or, better yet, before even getting to the cash register--is the key to living a clutter-free life. It's not always easy to stand by that belief--but returning the bag (and the money to my wallet) feels like a win.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because less really is more.

Related posts: Plenty Is a Mindset The Haves and the Have Nots

Just Do It: Clear the Clutter

timer - 15 minutes Decluttering FOO (Friend of Oprah) Peter Walsh claims all you need is  15 minutes a day, every day, to wrangle the piles around your house. The charmingly downhome FlyLady swears by the 27-Fling Boogie to rid yourself of all the junk that's bogging you down. Even my kindergarten teacher, Miss Panda, had a quick, effective technique that she called Chipmunk Clean-Up to get us to put away all the crayons, books, puzzles, and blocks that we had scattered about.

All three had the same idea: just do it. Chop chop. No dilly-dallying. All too often, however, I'll get sidetracked in my cleaning pursuits--simply because I don't have a plan of attack. I see messes, I see piles, I see some really boring tasks ahead of me and my instinct is to see what's on HGTV. Maybe if I watch just one (more) show about other people's houses, then I'll be inspired to tackle the clutter.

So, tonight, I turned on some rousing music, set the kitchen timer for 15 minutes, and went to it. I emptied the dishwasher, washed the pots, loaded the new round of dirty dishes, recycled that red wine vinegar bottle from three days ago, put last week's grocery list and some random receipts in the recycling bin, gave the stovetop a quick scrub and the countertops a wipe down, put away two pairs of my boots and three pairs of shoes, folded the reusable grocery bags, and yes--dear FlyLady--I even shined my sink. (To her standards, no, but anything is better than nothing, right?)

All in 15 minutes? Well, not quite. I tacked another 8 minutes onto the timer, but the kitchen is pretty darn spiffy right now, if I do say so myself.

So, what are you waiting for? Go clear the clutter--one pile at a time.

_________________________________________________________________________ © 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space--both mentally and physically--to live happily ever after. (image from The Household Helper)