I read today that knitters and spinners are serious consumers of ziplock bags. I did not know until recently that said bags come in very large sizes, including a 'Hagar' size lunch bag which is large enough to hold an entire 6 to 8 pounds of fleece. Well. Now we have potential stash management on a whole new order. Fibre stored in ziplocks can be seen and that means that I can glory in my stash much more easily than when it is stored in plastic storage tubs. And why have stash if you cannot spend time with it, fondle it, dream it into projects and if the need is great, roll around in it.
Even more is possible however. I can organize the stash, so that all the sock yarn is in one place; all the lace yarn projects are safely zipped up with their patterns; all the UFO's can now be bagged and so shuffled without the needles falling out or critical bits unravelling. I can leave notes to myself in each project bag or go wild and actually write on the bags. There's no end to how much I could organize: little bags in bigger bags for instance. The mind boggles.
Trash toss also requires bags and boxes but happily neither are expensive, though they aren't much fun either. Trash toss is fraught with much more angst than stash wrangling and comes with guilt too. You'd think I'd be normal and have guilt about stash accumulation; but no, I have guilt about what I throw out; or need to toss and don't.
The trash toss is long overdue, and things are in such a state that I've felt the need to ask for professional help. I cannot seem to get motivated for clearing or cleaning--there's so much stuff to do that is infinitely more entertaining. So everywhere I look there is stuff that either ought to be shuffled into some permanent and practical home if it is living here; or tossed if it has lost its claim to usefulness in my life. Anything I consider tossing though seems to be stuck to me with some boomerang quality.
Why, for instance, do I need to keep a ten year old computer that I haven't used now for at least two years? I've done my best to find a home for it and should not be surprised (but I am) that nobody wants it, even for free. All this equipment has done in the last several years is take up way too much space in my office. Now part of the reason it hasn't moved on is because some of it is so heavy I cannot move it by myself; but that's not the critical factor between me and the recycling. No, the issue is, as soon as it goes, I'll find some wonderful use for it. Or, as in the present case, worry that I have done something extraordinarily stupid by dumping perfectly useful plastic.
Sigh.
What I really hate about trash tossing is all the decisions it requires of me. I have to weigh each of these decisions in several bizarre manners. Will I need this again in the next decade? Have I used this in the previous decade? Did I pay too much for it (or am I still paying for it)? What story does it represent in my life? Is it a story I'm willing to to live without (not, you might notice, the item)? Who gave this to me--and what's the story of that?
I can see, theoretically, that if the item is unused and likely to remain so, it should not be taking up real estate in my too cluttered life/world. But get rid of it, forever? Way too hard to do or make a decision about. Hence the need for professional help--someone who isn't wrapped up in the stories but, because I have asked her to help me get organized, sees things in terms of their real function. Which is not to say that I'll give up everything with a story to it--that won't and doesn't need to happen. I will however have less stuff that's just in my way and that I have to figure out how to clean around and/or not trip over when moving from point A to point B in my house. Apparently where other people see a hallway as a passage, I see an area that can hold 5 or 6 book cases and stacks of boxes with yarn and fibre stash. And what are stairs for except as a kind of filing system for things on their way up or down? A bedroom is a sometime library, right? For books to be read or books newly read, or books to be read again--the books I want to keep especially close for awhile.
Ah, the books. I know it is time for a major cull--and with seventeen mostly double shelved book cases, is it any wonder that even thinking about this task makes me weary? On occasion I have begun the cull only to find dozens upon dozens of books I want to read again to see if the experience is the same as the first time I read the book, or whether I or the book or both have changed in thirty five years. So far only my favourite Victorians and pre-Victorians have any staying power.
On the needles this week: the Pi Shawl, have knit it backwards several times (tink, tink, tink) and will do that again--I think I finally see what the problem is. A lovely first Primavera sock, a Moss & Cable sock and a 'yarn over' cable sock. Socks, as usual, well represented in the current projects pile; there are two other shawls projects on the needles and neither is moving forward. Now that I'm not so weary and beginning to realize that I am NOT presently employed, I hope to make progress on several of my languishing projects.
