No offense, fellow parishioners, but the LAST thing I want in my house is your old stuff. I have nothing against used items – witness the used cars, DVD’s, clothing, games, etc. in and around our house. However, there was absolutely nothing I needed (or even wanted) to buy on that Sunday morning.

In fact, I need less stuff, not more, in my life. That’s one of the reasons I was so intrigued by the blog of a friend of a friend. This wise woman decided to get rid of one item per day for an entire year (in 2006, to be exact). The interesting and entertaining account of her shedding 365 items can be found at A Year of Trash.

Back here in 2010, my “trashy thoughts” were reignited when Wise Women Laurie passed along a blurb from a personal organizer outlining ways to declutter. Below is the target list of things that can be tossed out, recycled, or given away.

I’ve highlighted in green the things I know should be exiled from my home. What’s in your home/office/car that just needs to GO?!?!?

Let go of:
All spice and most cooking supplies that are over a year old
T-shirts or ball caps that haven’t been worn in six months
Keys that you haven’t used for a year and don’t know what they unlock
Sheets, towels, and throw rugs with rips or stains or no longer fit current beds. (Hint: Your local animal shelter may be able to use them.)
Old or worn shoes that you do not wear
Half the books you have already read and half the books you have had for a year without reading
Jewelry and clothing that need to be mended
Any clothes you haven’t worn in a year or that do not fit
Kitchen utensils and serving pieces that you would be embarrassed to use if you were having the boss to dinner
Receipts, bills, and statements that are more than 16 months old
Your toothbrush after three months, and your bed pillows every year
Computer files and email
Old electronics like phones, computers, and monitors that can be recycled; anything electric that you don’t use.
Any magazine more than 2 months old; newspapers more than a week old
Any more than 2 plastic garden pots in each size, or no more than a shopping bag full of plastic grocery bags
All medicines and vitamins that are past their expiration dates, or that you have not taken for a month
Cosmetic and grooming products that are less than half full, or that you haven’t used in 2 months
While you are at it, weed out obligations; dump energy-sucking or stress-contagious friends and think seriously about banning that junk food. Once you get started, isn’t this simplification just so satisfying?

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Here are a few quaint rules familiar to most baby boomers:

#1 Wear clean underwear; you never know when you’ll be in an accident.

#2 Before swimming, wait at least an hour after you eat; otherwise you’ll cramp up and possibly drown.

#3 Never leave the house with a big appliance running (i.e., dishwasher, washing machine, dryer); if it malfunctions, your house can burn down or flood while you’re away.

Being a glass-half-full type of gal, I’ve blissfully ignored such convention. Who wants to go around anticipating a car accident, drowning or destruction of a house? Not I!

Now, after this week, I want to amend that third rule. Never mind leaving the house. Don’t leave the room when an appliance is running! This wisdom was learned, of course, the hard way.

Tuesday night, I hear a sound that reminds me of Niagara Falls wafting up from the bottom floor. I fly down the stairs to discover water literally gushing out of the washing machine. Quick thinker that I am, I pull the plug to stop the evil, possessed appliance. No matter. The geyser continues, and I feel the water from the floor beginning to drench my shoes and socks. I try to close the valves connected to the machine’s hoses to cut the flow of water. The valves don’t budge, much like a window that’s been painted shut. Finally, Wise Hubby runs down and shuts off the water to the whole house so we can stem the tide of destruction and give ourselves a moment to think.

The next 24 hours are devoted to dealing with the mess: ridding the laundry room of water, moving water-logged boxes and clothes outside so they don’t form mildew and stink up the joint, calls to and visit from the plumber, a frantic search for an appliance part, and literally hours on the Internet reading conflicting consumer reviews of new washing machines.

Despite this flurry of activity, I am no closer to having a working washing machine in our house. For someone who’s usually decisive, I’m stuck! Repair the 20-year old machine or buy a new model? If the latter, how do I decide when I can’t find a brand/model that receives consistently good reviews?

Clothes are still draped in my yard, and a new dirty clothes pile has started in the now-dry laundry room. Tick, tock. I need to make a decision NOW!

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You remember “Sally”? Sally and her husband “Bob” are the neighbors with the massive, aging tree that threatened to demolish our house with the next strong wind … until they removed it this fall after some neighborly back-and-forth.

Two weeks ago, I received this email from Sally:

Are you at all interested in selling your swing set?  We would love to take it off your hands and move it to our house.

If not no worries.  Just let me know.

Thanks ~ Sally

Let me talk to Mike. We head out this morning for a road trip to look at colleges with Caitlin, so I’ll get back to you right after Easter. Enjoy spring break! ~ Elaine

To which she replied:

heart in stomach! Colleges? my did it go that fast? I keep thinking she is at XYZ Elementary School ; )

Ahhh, isn’t that nice … a little neighborly bonding over email. A few days after returning from our trip, I got back to Sally:

Sally ~ We did a family pow wow and every one’s on board with your moving the swing set to your yard. A couple of caveats/disclaimers …

(1) The swing set is due to be resanded and sealed. The wood’s getting a little brittle and splintery.
(2) There’s a wood panel missing from the rope ladder section.
(3) We had Creative Playthings (where we bought it) install it back in 2001. I’m not sure how you would move it over, but it is staked pretty deep into the ground to keep it stable. Something to consider in both your removing it and reinstalling it in your yard.
(4) Moving the swing set will probably leave holes in our yard. We’d just like you (or whoever moves it) to fill them in so the ground is flat and stable. We’ll throw grass seed on afterward.

If all of the above and the swing set’s “as is” condition is OK with you, have at it!  $100 sound fair? And, if you don’t want it after all, no worries.

College trip was fun and informative although it does feel like my kids should still be in elementary school! ~ Elaine

This last email was sent on Wednesday. On Friday we hear banging in the yard next door. A quick peek through the trees (No, that was not me craning my neck for a better look) revealed that Sally and Bob have gone out and bought their own swing set and are having someone assemble it.

Which is exactly what we would have done, if we were in their shoes!! The only sticky part is that Sally never got back to me to say “never mind.”  Now the exchange feels awkward and unfinished.

Is my reaction rooted in lingering bad karma from the tree incident? What’s your reaction? And, what (if anything) should be done to close the communication loop?

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I still remember the surge of intuition I experienced nine years ago when we were house hunting. We saw a For Sale sign in front of an ugly duckling brick rambler in a great part of town.  I excitedly called our Realtor so he could get us an appointment to view the house the following day. Later that night, I had a vivid dream of hosting my daughter’s bridal shower (she was 8 at the time) on the spacious, green lawn of the ugly duckling house.

So, imagine my crushing disappointment when the next day our Realtor called and advised us the house was suddenly off the market. What?!?!? I had plans for that house! Big plans. The Realtor speculated that the owner canceled the listing and decided to stay put as the house had been on the market for a while. (You thought I was joking about the ugly duckling moniker. No, really! The unkempt house had a jungle of overgrown bushes in front of it and little curb appeal.)

The following Saturday morning I woke up early to scour the real estate listings. My heart skipped a beat when I saw “my” house listed for sale – no longer through a real estate company, but For Sale By Owner. I rushed upstairs to wake up Wise Hubby with the news. We saw the house later that day, and I was smitten. Wise Hubby was less enamored and accused me of “stalking” the house. However, intuition carried the day, and the ugly duckling house has been our home for almost a decade.

I had a similar ah-ha moment when I recently looked at office space for my new venture. Comfy, spacious and light-filled space in a charming office complex on a quiet, tree-filled street. This was the office I was meant to be in! Never mind it required more of a leasing commitment than I was looking to give. Never mind I had been looking for space for less than a week and seen just a few properties to compare it to. My intuition was speaking, and I had no choice but to listen.

As I told Wise Hubby about the beautiful space and the powerful intuitive hit, he asked, “You mean the same intuition that told you Caitlin would end up at College of Charleston?” (An urban campus she hated when we toured it recently.)

WHOOSH. (That’s the sound of the wind being knocked out of my sails.)

Hmmm … come to think of it, my intuition has not been 100% reliable.

So, Wise Women, do you have any intuition stories to tell? (I remember Anne shared how she once ignored her intuition about a tree, only to have it land on top of her house.) Any tricks on how to discern if it’s intuition speaking or the chocolate cake?

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I believe this is an inherited trait from my maternal side. As I think back to forays inside my mother’s fridge and my mother’s mother’s fridge, I recall easy navigation among the relatively few, but always good, foodstuffs.

In Peek Inside Elaine’s Fridge, a post from nearly two years ago (!), I chronicled the contents of my fridge and noted some differences between tossers and keepers (those folks who have overflowing refrigerators and throw out items only duress).

I was reminded of these musings when I recently read about a new gadget that could help with my vigilance: a digital day counter that attaches to food and monitors the number of days it resides in the recesses of your refrigerator or freezers.

My inner tosser is delighted!

At $4 a timer, I won’t go crazy, but I am ordering a few of these today. Other uses for the gadget? On plants (”Hmmm, when did I last water that  plant?”), furnace filters, bottles of wine, Toby’s heart worm pill, just to name a few.

The icing on the cake (still fresh, of course)? The DaysAgo counter was “born” when two Wise Women had a Eureka moment. The new moms were taking a break from their brainstorming session about business ventures to feed their babies and couldn’t remember which of the many jars of opened baby foods were still OK to use. Talk about necessity being the mother of invention (and good timing!)

Don’t you just love new gadgets? It reminds me of the excitement generated when there’s a cool, new app for a phone or handheld device. Of course, I don’t know how to use most apps, so I’ll just be enthused about the brilliantly simple DaysAgo counter.

What gadgets do other Wise Women use?

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After 20 years of having a cleaning lady, I have made peace with the paradoxical yet timeless tradition of “cleaning for the cleaning lady;” my family members, not so much. Although, to their credit, while they may still grumble, they no longer require my nagging to cooperate, nor do they continue to demand an explanation of why exactly they must do the job that the cleaning lady is hired to do the very next day.

I am absolutely clear that our family has an unequivocal NEED to employ outside assistance to keep the house clean. During budget belt-tightening times, this expense has been and will be among the last to go. I learned that it’s a lot cheaper to pay a house cleaner a couple hundred bucks each month than to write weekly checks to a marriage (or family) therapist. Plus, not only is there family peace, I get the pleasure of walking into a completely clean house (it even smells clean!) on a somewhat regular basis – it never fails to thrill me.

For the last four years, 65-year old Carmen has been our cleaning lady. When she arrives every other Tuesday morning, we catch up on each other’s lives during 15-minute chats. I hear about her son’s adopting a child … her enthusiastic attendance at her grand kids’ soccer games … her menu for Christmas dinner. She gives me advice on allowing teen-aged children freedom (but not too much) and asks about the health of various family members.

My only complaint about this arrangement – which isn’t even fair – is that I feel guilty when I have to dash out the door before Carmen arrives. It feels rude to forgo my chat with this woman who clearly enjoys the limited social contact she gets at her job. It seems wrong to not indulge in chit-chat with the woman whom I’m expecting to clean the scum out of the sink and notice the cobwebs around my lights.

Anyone else feel occasionally trapped by a chatty housekeeper? Other stories (good or bad) about those women and men who help keep us Wise Women sane and our houses clean?

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After a Saturday morning walk with a wise friend who gave me good advice and a shot in the arm of courage, I call over to my neighbor’s house and “Bob” answers.

Elaine (as friendly-sounding as possible): Bob? Hi! This is Elaine, your neighbor.

Bob (in an unenthused monotone): Hello.

Elaine: Bob, are you and “Sally” free tomorrow morning around 11? I was wondering if you could come over for coffee so we can talk about the tree.

Bob: Are we around tomorrow morning around 11 am? (I hesitate because I don’t know why he’s repeating back my question. Then I realize he’s repeating it so his wife Sally – who must be close by – can hear the question and indicate her response to him.)

Bob: Yes, we’re around tomorrow morning.

Pause. I wonder was that an acceptance of the invitation for coffee or not. Clearly, I’m going to have to work harder to nail this down.

Elaine: So, does that mean you and Sally can come over for coffee at 11 am?

Bob: Can we go over for coffee? (Now, I’m on to the fact that Bob does not have a disorder that causes him to repeat things; he just needs Sally’s sign-off.)

Pause. I remain quiet. Pause continues. Finally …

Bob: Yes, we can come over.

Elaine: Great! (said with great animation and none of the frustration/anger I feel at this point.) See you tomorrow!

I go find my husband who’s watching some movie on cable for the zillionth time. I ask him to mute the TV and then, once there is silence, start crying. I sniffle and snort about the neighbors’ lack of responsiveness and apparent unwillingness to deal with this tree issue. “Clearly, our neighbors are a**holes who don’t care that their damn tree is going to kill my kids.” I conclude it’s a lost cause even before we have the conversation.

Coffee with the Neighbors

It’s 11:01 am on Sunday morning and Sally and Bob knock on the front door. (I had already figured out that I would give them until 11:30 before calling to remind them about coffee. I also worked up Plans C, D, and E for other non-cooperative behavior they might display.)

I pour coffee and bring out a plate of bagels. We start chatting about our respective lawns. After five minutes of small talk, Sally brings up the tree.

And … we end up having the nicest, most civilized neighborly conversation. Turns out that tree is one of Sally’s favorites, and she hopes there might be options for saving it. She wants to call another arborist for a second opinion. Bob wonders whether, if the tree must be removed, others could remove it for less than the quoted price of $4,000. All good questions to explore, I think. Then, Sally says the magic words that melt my resentment away: “Of course, safety is paramount. I couldn’t live with myself if that tree fell on to your kids’ bedrooms.”

Lessons Learned

I learned that Bob always speaks in a monotone, even when talking about his favorite football team. He’s just that type of guy.

I learned (or, was reminded) that 99% of life’s drama results NOT from actual conversations, but from the imagined conversations I have in my head.

I learned that, if something’s important to me, I have to chill out when others do not share that priority and just accept that it’s up to me to take steps to make something happen.

I learned that it’s not good fences, but good communication that makes good neighbors.

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Neither the neighbor nor I made mention of the tree (nor the whopping $4,000 price tag to remove it) for the next 21 days. Over that period, I spent a good chunk of my awake time angsting about how/when to broach the subject of the tree again. (As my husband pointed out, I was investing WAY too much emotional energy in this dilemma.)

On Day 22, a 5 am thunderstorm jolted me awake and terrifying thoughts of tumbling trees kept me awake. I decided to take the bull by the horn (or tree by the limb) and attempt to restart the conversation.

Elaine’s Re-engaging Email

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Initial Salvo Sent From Elaine to “Sally” in late July

Hi, “Sally” -

We had a tree company come over the weekend to give us an estimate on tree work that needs to be done in our yard. We used them 6 years ago, too. At that time, the tree guy expressed concern about the poplar tree with the split trunk that’s in your back yard. He indicated it was just a matter of time before it toppled and, given its size, did a lot of damage to whatever it hit. We told “Joe” (who was in the house at the time), but he kind of blew it off.

The tree guy has increased his concern about the tree’s stability, saying that the split between the two trunks has increased and the root system is weak. He recommends removing it ASAP. There’s another, less expensive option of cabling it, but my understanding is that would just postpone the inevitable.

Given that, if/when the tree goes down, it would likely fall in the direction of the bedrooms of our two kids, we are motivated to help remove the tree. We would be willing to help out with the cost to remove the tree, if needed.

I’m going to put a copy of the tree guy’s estimate in your mailbox for you and your husband to review. I know he would be happy to discuss this with you, too, and his number is (222) 123-1234.

I’ll call over to your house and see if we can chat about this more in person over the weekend. Thanks, “Sally.” I guess this is one of the “joys” of living in a neighborhood with mature trees. Sigh.

Best, Elaine

Neighbor’s Response

I have forwarded your message to my husband. I do have some concerns but I feel there is a way we can come to a reasonable solution. Husband’s email addendum:  I am on a business trip right now. Can we discuss over the weekend when I get back?

Elaine’s Response to the Neighbor’s Response

No rush … definitely it’s a conversation for the weekend when we’re all around.

Thanks, Elaine

Two Important Contextual Notes for Wise Women to Know

1. The cost of removing the tree is $4,000. (Sadly, you read that amount correctly; there is no extra “0″ included inadvertently.)
2. About 90% of communication between neighbors in our neck of the woods occurs via email. Over the last year since they moved in, I have had one in-person chat with this neighbor plus about a dozen email exchanges ranging from information-sharing to school fundraising solicitations to expressions of concern when our dog ran away.

Next Chapter

Tune in tomorrow to discover how I handled the deafening silence that followed over the next three weekends.

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If you don’t have an hour and half to waste invest in the full episode, just watch the promo for the Fab 15 Countdown; it’s the first minute of video, after the initial mini-commercial. And be ready to catch your jaw as it drops. As the promo teases, “We’re not talking run-of-the-mill McMansions here.”

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