aka Chesty LaRue

The Year of the House, or Ridding My Life of Crap

Today in the mail I got a copy of the Ballard Designs catalog.  Sarah over at Thrifty Decor Chick talks about them frequently, and so I thought I would see what they were all about. 

Many of the items were to my taste, with clean lines, non-fussy fabric and simple accessories.  Some were not.  But as my Grandpa used to say, "Whatever floats your boat."  (He was a Navy man, and technically they are ships, but whatever.)

My issue is that I don't particularly care for clutter.  You wouldn't know it from looking at the current state of my home, but I HATE it.  I like simple design, cohesive collections, and plenty of space.  I am probably closer to mid-century mixed with Swedish design right now more than anything else.  In my head, anyway.  My home does not YET reflect this.  But it will.  Eventually.

I did go through the obligatory 1980's-early 1990's Laura Ashley phase, where cabbage rose upon cabbage rose was the design of the day.  Oddly enough, I lost interest in it when Shabby Chic took over and declared that the cabbage rose was THEIRS, Thank You Very Much.  And yet I never liked the idea of curtains matching wallpaper matching fabric where everything is one big overwhelming quantity of toile and you must have X number of candlesticks on your mantel.  I also couldn't afford this, and so that may have been a factor.  One can't just replace one's sofa every season, you know.

Speaking of sofas, in my 17 years of marriage my husband and I have owned exactly 3 sofas.  One that was technically part of a sectional from when we were first married (and really just borrowed), one ENORMOUS beast that had Southwestern print on it (seriously?  I have never even liked Southwestern prints...) and eventually was covered with a denim slipcover (and which was sold to us, newlyweds, by a salesguy who winked and said, "It's big enough for two!"), and our current sofa, a large blue thing from Flexsteel from JCPenney's.  Currently covered with sheets, blankets, shrunken sofa covers, covering up spots from our 6 years dead cat.  Um, yeah.  So it is about time for a new one.

And I have to say the sticker shock about killed me.  For roughly the same price as it cost to save the life of my puppy, we could have an "apartment size" sofa from Ethan Allen.  Or Room and Board.  Or anywhere else. 

Obviously this is not happening this year.

And so I have been checking out Craigslist, and have found lots of really great stuff, for more reasonable prices.  I really don't care who has sat on it, as long as it is clean, without stains, and no smoke or cats.  I found a chaise lounge on there for $5, and jumped on that sucker.  It is missing feet (which I can get at the hardware store) and has some small stains from the storage unit, and is cream colored.  Which doesn't fly with children/teens and puppies.  So it is my spring project to recover, in either a lovely brown wool or a green wool boucle.  Depending on where it winds up living...

I also need to finish the redecorating in the kids' rooms that was kind of started last fall during the Let's Paint Everything While El Jefe is Out Of Town On Business week, which included both kids' rooms, the kitchen, my bedroom, and the TV room/Exercise room.  I still have curtains to hang, bedskirts to embellish, quilts to finish up, pictures to display, touch-ups to do, etc.  Not to mention a long overdue overhaul of the kitchen. 

I hate this crappy MN weather.  How is one to paint in -10 degrees?

And finally I need to finish the decluttering of my home.  Because it is driving me MAD.  Moving my sewing space into the laundry room (which is SO nice and warm) made me realize just how much crap is has been sitting around the basement.  I have so far taken 2 carloads to Goodwill and have more to come. Make that two MINIVANS full, and you get the idea of how much stuff was there.  Because that Minivan?  Can hold a small marching band.

Miss Cheap Chick and I were discussing the decluttering and spring cleaning the other day.  She said that I was one of the few people she knew who could easily and without hesitation, throw stuff out.  Which is true.  I think it might be a military thing.  There is really very little in this house that I need to survive, or have a particular affinity for.  I am the ruthless person you invite over to help you get rid of things.  "Aunt Martha gave this fish vase to you?  SO what.  Aunt Martha is dead, and she doesn't get to decide how you decorate your home.  Out it goes!". 

More than anything else, it drives me crazy when people hold onto something because someone gave it to them, or bequeathed it to them.  Just because Grandma gave you that ugly horse statue does NOT mean you need to keep it.  Grandma would rather you were happy in your space, rather than continuing to stare at/haul around something that you can't stand.  I am sure of it.  And if said person is still alive and comes over to your house often?  LIE.  Say it broke and you are tragically sad about it.  You don't have to live with it.

Like I said, I am not devoted to my things, for the most part.  I don't keep books, other than a select few which take up exactly 3 shelves in my bedroom, and the kids' books from when they were little.  (For my future grandchildren, LONG off in the future, please.) I don't have very many collections, and I am constantly getting rid of clothing and shoes, to the point where I have roughly 10 pairs of shoes/boots total, and a closet of mostly black clothing and one dress.

You can take away my girl card now.

As for my collections, I have been known to just give them away, sell them, etc. when I am tired of them.  Consequently, I spend very little money on them.  They are almost all from thrift.  I had a white ironstone collection that is now gone.  I had a "Third Grade Pottery" collection which included all the sad pathetic looking pots that children make for their parents that are then "disposed" of when the child is not looking.  I have my mother's china set which is currently on display, and likely to be kept because the kids want it.  As is my Belleek, which you will have to pry from my cold dead fingers.  We are Irish, and my grandmother was even buried in a Belleek vase. (She was a small woman.)  But the Buddhas? Optional.  The artwork?  Eh.  Lamps?  Piffle. 

So this year, while being the Year of Excellent Things, is also The Year of The House, which will include remodeling (Hey Honey, we're remodeling!  Surprise!), painting, decorating, decuttering, etc.  My labelmaker will get an intense workout, to the point that even the kids and dogs may have little stickers on their foreheads if they are lucky.  And by the end of 2010 I will have a home that is an oasis, and filled with a lot less crap.  I plan on having pictures of the process, as well as the befores and afters.  All interspersed with the occasional costume. 

And hey - does anyone need sugared fruit Christmas decor?  Because that is on its way OUT, baby. 

I love it when a plan comes together. 

The one where I get maudlin AND issue myself a challenge...

2009 has been a long year.  A REALLY long year.  The drama of this year has at times threatened to overwhelm me, both personally and professionally.

I had some great moments this year.  I completed a goal I had set for myself in costuming, I dressed a renaissance princess, and I attended the college where some of the world's best costumers go and teach.

However, as the year draws to a close, I am reminded more and more of the things that I didn't get to do, and the changes I want to make.

I have talked about The Dreaded Disease here before, and how it can wipe me of any and all energy, strength and initiative that I might have.  One of the things I have realized this year is that I no longer want to push myself as hard as I have.  I can't afford to stay up all night sewing.  My body can't afford to have me sew for days on end with no breaks.  There will be a point where it is going to tell me that it has had enough, and my sewing days will be done.  Lately I have had subluxations in my fingers.  This is painful, and not really conducive to handwork.  I have been falling down a lot lately.  Great big THUMPING falling down, where my entire self crashes to the ground because I have caught a toe on a chair.  I have tripped over a puppy.  I have TRIPPED ON MY OWN PANTS.  This doesn't do a lot for my dignity, or my physical self, and I have had bruises on my bruises. 

And who knows why my particular Dread Disease has decided to choose this time to exacerbate itself.  To get worse.  I am certain the stress of this past year has affected it.  I am certain that the punishing hours spent at my sewing machine and worrying over the Six Wives has affected it.  I am certain that staying up till all hours has affected it.  And not only affected me, but by extension my family and friends as well.

I let a lot fall to the wayside this year in order to devote myself to the Six Wives Project.  And don't get me wrong - it was fulfilling and challenging and something I am proud to have done.  But the management of the project wasn't all positive. 

My house needs desperate attention in terms of curtains and cleaning and organizing and fixing.  I finally cleaned off my nightstand table for the first time in over a year.  I sorted my patterns and fabric closet.  I am having things fixed all over the house via a barter with an excellent handyman.   I have organized half my garage.

I also have puppies that need more attention and need training now that they are old enough for the real deal.  I have children who need me to keep a better eye on their academics.  I have a husband who would like to not hear the whir of the sewing machine occasionally. 

And I have a desperate need to get in shape.  I have let myself go for far too long. 

I will let you in on a little secret.  Part of the reason I am forever making a costume and then selling it immediately upon wearing it is because I think to myself, "Well, I won't be wearing that again, because I will be losing weight and it will be too big."  This has gone on for several years now, and it has become painfully obvious that I have been deluding myself.  And the other day as I watched the highlights from The Biggest Loser on the computer (we only have the one TV) and was thinking to myself, "HAH.  I would not be scared of Jillian.  I had drill sergeants worse than her," I realized that I was eating a bag of chocolate as I was watching people WORK THEIR ASSES OFF TO LOSE WEIGHT.  The irony of the moment was not lost on me.

I think you all need a little back story.  Almost 20 years ago I was in the Army.  I injured my knees and ankles and was discharged as a disabled veteran.  I weighed 148 lbs. at 5'5 when I joined the Army in 1990 and 117 when I was discharged in 1992.  Now, 117 lbs. on me is WAY too skinny.  My cheekbones could cut glass and you could see my pelvic bones through my skin.  I did not have an eating disorder, but I was working out constantly, climbing huge hills and multiple flights of stairs each day, eating fairly healthy, and constantly getting sick.  I caught every infection, cold, etc. that came through the barracks, to include a nice big dose of mono while I was in Arizona.  I spent 5 days at my Dad's house in Phoenix one weekend and I don't remember any of it.  Not the drive there, the time at the house, or the drive back.  I was that sick.

When  I got married in 1993 I weighed 155 lbs.  That is too BIG for me.  And I had gained it all in one year.  I had fallen in love, started cooking again, and had no more stairs in my daily activities.  My weight changed again after I was pregnant and I settled at around 175-185 for years.  Then in the winter/spring of 2000-2001 I was determined to get in shape.  I did weights, I walked on the treadmill, I gardened, and I lost 50 lbs.  And 135 was a good weight for me.  Until suddenly in 2001 I got sick and it all went downhill.

I have spent the remaining years fluctuating between 185-205.  I went through some amazingly stressful life experiences during this time, and that didn't help.  Multiple surgeries didn't help either.  Then this spring after the Dread Disease was finally given a name (Ehlers-Danlos) I started working with a trainer and exercising.  And I was feeling pretty good.  I didn't change my diet at all, but I wasn't gaining anything. 

Then I got in the home stretch of the Six Wives and lived on Junior Mints and Dairy Queen and got to an all time high of 209.  And my treadmill got dusty from lack of use.  And then I spent October and November resting because my body had finally had enough.

But it wasn't until I realized that I really wasn't hungry when I was eating that chocolate while watching The Biggest Loser, but was simply eating because it was a habit, that I got well and truly disgusted and motivated and tired of being tired.  2009 may have been the Year of Things That Sucked.  But 2010 is going to be the Year of Taking Care of Me. 

I plan to turn our TV room into an exercise room.  (The kids are very excited about this, and the TV will still be readily available elsewhere.) I plan to get more sleep, and keep more regular hours.  I plan to spend more time with my family and friends that doesn't constantly revolve around sewing.  (Robert Downey Jr. in Sherlock Holmes?  I plan to see ALL OF YOU.)  I plan to cut back on my sewing and work on fewer projects, but better ones, and devote my whole attention to them to make them as fabulous as possible.  I plan to make one more outfit before Jan. 16th for me (it is already cut out) and then I am not making anything else for me (or selling anything either) until I have actually lost some weight and NEED to make something to fit.  I am not buying any fabric next year other than muslin/linen and necessary lining fabrics.  I am working from my stash.  I am going to pick and choose my costuming events very carefully next year in terms of time and energy.  And I am going to go to the Courage Center and work with the trainers there and get my ass in shape.  I want my ass to HAVE a shape - other than excessively round.

And I am going to report back here and tell everyone where I am at.  I need to keep an account for myself, because I need to be accountable to ME, and no one else. 

I will appreciate the support next year.  I will need it.  And I think if you stick around for 2010 you will find some pretty exciting stuff is going to happen.  Hell, it's bound to be better than 2009 (knock on wood), that's for sure, and THAT'S a start.  I look forward to sharing the next even BETTER chapter of my life with all of you. 

All Work and No Play Makes Larue Very Cranky Indeed (and likely to talk in the 3rd person)

I have been covered in bits of thread and smelling of puppy for about a week now. 

This is not entirely a good thing.

Luckily the Monks of New Skete know what they are doing, and the puppies slept from 10:30-6:30 last night and everyone is happier this morning.  Especially me.  I tend to get a mite cranky from lack of sleep.  Ask El Jefe and the Chick.  And did you know puppies are much cuter when you are not sleep deprived? It's true.

As I looked over my Sewing Spreadsheet yesterday, it seemed to me that it wasn't changing at all.  I was getting things done and deleting them from the list, but more things kept being added.  People have said to me, "Well, wouldn't you be bored if you had nothing to do?"

Yes, I would.  But that is what the "future projects" spreadsheet is for.  I just want to cross something off and feel the satisfaction of having done so.  When I finished redoing the guard for the underskirt on Princess A's purple dress yesterday I instantly packaged the whole thing up and brought it upstairs to put by the door so it could leave as soon as possible.  Because as much as I love to see my work completed and displayed on the mannequin (and more so on the person it is made for), I like to see it leave my house.  Maybe this is why I keep so few costumes for myself.  I have raised/sewn my babies and now they need to leave the nest.  Again, and again.

I like organization.  I like orderliness.  I love to have the Chick come and cut for me (can you imagine? Someone who actually LIKES cutting out patterns?), it drives me crazy not knowing where the stuff I had put on the table went to.  She is very patient with me and my OCD tendencies and allows me to move things so I know where they are, and then gets her stuff ready and cuts away.  And her cutting is very precise.  Which is WONDERFUL.  There is nothing quite so great as sewing something that has to be done right away and having all the pieces be the same length, size, etc., and marked with their tabs, etc. 

Non-sewing people might not get that, but it is just so relaxing.  Especially when you have been in such a hurry you go to serge two strips of fabric together and discover you have created a mobius strip and don't have enough leftover fabric to fix it.  (Not a good moment at all.)

I have been in such a sewing haze this past week that I have not watched any TV at all except for date night with El Jefe (Burn Notice, yah baby!), read any books, read any blogs, done much in the way of exercise, really done anything other than take puppies outside, help clean puppy pee, mediate between tired teenagers, and teach them how to hold puppies like footballs, which makes it easier to take two squirmy puppies outside at the same time.  I have also had my nose pressed to a serger or a sewing machine, or been meeting with clients.  I would not be surprised to reach in my bra and find a bobbin there.  I am fairly certain there is thread on my butt. 

And now it is crunch time.  I have much to accomplish before Costume College and Bristol, which is just a month away.  And starting next week the kids are in camp half-days, which means my puppy time increases. 

I am taking this as a good thing.  It will be good for me to sit outside and read a book while the puppies explore the yard.  It will be good for me to get away from the sewing machine and eat something with nutritional value.  It will be good for me to perhaps get on the treadmill and watch an episode of Law & Order (ding-ding!). 

And hopefully my spreadsheet will narrow down a bit and I will have some breathing room.  Which would be nice.