Thursday, April 21, 2011

Decluttering: It’s contagious

Yesterday I provided a brief update re my life as a declutterer. I don’t yet have the habit but I feel I’m well on my way to completing Step 1 of 100.

The photo below proves decluttering is contagious. The wine box contains my discards. The rest belongs to my wife.


My wife is 10 times the organizer or sorter that I am. If she catches the bug, the rest is history.

***

Two heads are better than one. Four hands are better than two. But my goal is still 20 boxes in 2011.

Please click here to read Time (again) to declutter PT 5.

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Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Live Small PT 5: Time (again) to declutter

Here’s where I left off w posts related to decluttering:

“Who would want to wear an old pair of an old school teacher’s pants?” I asked.

“Ha! Not me,” I said - quite truthfully.

Then I added, “However, I think I’ll try to get a few bucks for 3 LPs, hat pins and a Bob Dylan scrapbook. Five bucks.”

In other words then, the pants are gone.

And this morning I added three shirts (and a vest I haven’t worn much if at all in the last 10 years) to the discard box. This pm.m or next I’ll put up an ad on Kijiji London to see if anyone wants to pay big bucks for a few LPs and a Bob Dylan scrapbook. (“We all gotta pay somebody, Bob.”)


As you can see in the photo, I have one full box of STUFF beside my study door. Out it goes. One room done, several more to clean and declutter. Another empty box is needed, ahead of schedule.

That’s where Earl comes in. Earl works for the LCBO or liquor store at York and Ridout. He’s the guy I see for empty boxes. And Guinness.

Someone may well ask, “Do you have the habit of decluttering yet?”

No. It will take time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

“Will you reach your goal of filling 20 boxes with STUFF by the end of 2011?” another may ask.

Well, if I get into the decluttering habit, and fill one box every two weeks for the next four or five weeks, then yes, the rest of the year should fall in line - in theory.

And I’ll be able to see the floor in the basement!

Stay tuned.

***

Please click here to read Time (again) to declutter PT 4

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Zoom w a View: I’ll be happy to see the end of it

The Jelly Bean Row project has been a long one. I’ll be happy when.


Today, the windows and doors will be assembled and nailed into place. Signage will be painted. Price tags hung from the door knobs. Big bucks. (Collect the whole set. Please!)


I’ll do another set - I have to... soon - and maybe the paint work will go faster. That’s what experience is all about, isn’t it?

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Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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Ollie and Me: “So. What’s a date square?”

My grandson and I head over to The Roaster together at least once a week after I pick him up from school.

The kid is usually famished after a long day of counting and singing and writing and busting the teacher’s chops about how long story time should be. Longer.


The other day I introduced him to date squares.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

I’m a retired teacher. There’s no such thing as a short answer.


["Just wait 'til Ollie gets a load of this": photos GH]

Dates. A date is like an apple, it grows on a tree. The trees don’t grow in Canada. It’s like a large raisin, it’s brown in the middle. It’s like a cherry or olive, it has a pit, so you have to be careful when you eat it. It’s made into a square. Each square is made from a pound of sugar and butter and oatmeal. It’s delicious.

Ollie loved it. And he ate it properly. With his fingers.

Later, my wife took another teaching approach. She bought a small container of dates with a picture on top.


So. What’s a parnoosh? I’ve got to know before Ollie gets here.

***

Please click here for more Ollie and Me and learn to ‘pick up the pace.’

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Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Zoom w a View: On my way to Purple

Yesterday I mixed a shade of purple paint for roofs of two birdhouses. Interesting colour choice, eh.

More interesting, in my humble opinion, were the swirling designs created at the bottom of a dish.










[Photos by GH]

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Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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It Strikes Me Funny: New iPad2 doesn’t compare with myPad

[“When Best Buy opened their doors this morning, only one person was waiting to enter in order to buy the new Blackberry. One person.” April 19, CBC Radio]

I haven’t been this well-organized since high school.

This morning I reached for myPad* and happily realized all I needed was at my fingertips. The two minutes I’d spent yesterday putting myPad together feels so well worth it now.


["The all new myPad - at my fingertips": photos GH]

I opened it, read a note to myself (no download time), took out an accessory (one second elapsed) and wrote my first brilliant thot for the day: Assemble two more birdhouses for The Roaster.


The Apple iPad declares “it's not a tablet, it's iPad 2. Starts at $499.”


["myPad comes with its own sturdy storage folder."]

MyPad isn’t a tablet either. It’s myPad** and didn’t cost me one thin dime.

About iPad. Battery life varies by use and configuration; features include Wi-Fi and 3G.


About myPad. No costly batteries required; features include stereo if I work at myDesk*** and 3P (two pens and a pencil) and zip area for notes or memos (zip files).


["myPad stores easily beside my dictionary on my shelf"]

You could knock me over with a feather.


* Copyright pending. Don’t touch this.

** I had all necessary materials in myDesk.

*** Copyright pending. Don’t touch this.

***

Please click here for more It Strikes Me Funny.

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Monday, April 18, 2011

Zoom w a View: I felt like a purple

While painting roofs for eight birdhouses this morning a sudden craving came over me.

Light shades of blue, green and yellow - I can do that. But... how about a purple? I started mixing paints.








Next stop - light purple.


[Photos by GH]

***

Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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The Workshop: Eight is enough - for now

Shortly after a friend dropped off cedar cutoffs from a fence job he was doing, I developed a common case of ‘birdhouse on the brain.’


["Basic, peak-roof birdhouse. Easy schmeasy": photos GH]

Six, fancy, heavily-painted Jelly Bean houses have recently demanded a lot of my time, so, I was ready to build an easier model.


["Four have offset or off-center roof lines. Schmeasy."]

Eight basic birdhouses with painted roofs and simple trim are now underway; four have offset roof lines (as I like to say).

The bodies will get one quick coat of linseed oil w a titch of maple stain. Easy schmeasy.




Four roofs require a second coat - that’s right, you see light purple for the first time ever - and off they go to market.

***

Please click here for another trip to The Workshop.

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“IT STRIKES” Again: Of saunas, bathing suits, fires and safety at the Y - conclusion

[You require context. Really. Please click here to read PT 1 of the story first published in The Londoner on Oct. 17, 2002.]

Of saunas, bathing suits, fires and safety at the Y - conclusion

( ...I couldn’t imagine I would run naked into the pool area either, but in an emergency I’m sure people are capable of doing lots of interesting things.)

I continued. “Just the way this notice is worded here. ‘Someone put their bathing suit in the sauna and it caught fire.’ Was it the dry sauna that caught fire or was it someone’s bathing suit?”

“Oh, it was a man’s bathing suit,” she replied helpfully.

“How hot does the dry sauna have to get in order to make some guy’s bathing suit burst spontaneously into flames?”

I really wanted to know.

I could get more intense about my training in the future and upgrade to the Plus Membership. I would need this important, scientific information. And was it a Speedo or regular trunks?


[“The story is funnier if you picture me in a Speedo.” gah]

“Well, it happened like this,” she explained. “Someone threw their bathing suit on the hot rocks and started the fire. Actually, three bathing suits and a newspaper were found in the sauna.”

I’m sure the notice on the front counter has encouraged a number of questions from members but three bathing suits and a newspaper would generate a few more. Can you imagine?

I can understand that a bathing suit placed on the hot rocks in a dry sauna will start to burn, but who among us would say, “Guys, a fire! Quick, drop the paper - let’s get outta here! What? Your bathing suits? Forget about them! We’ll just run to the pool!”

I think they should change the sign.

Attention Members: Keep your bathing suits on at all times.

gah

***

Please click here to read Of saunas, bathing suits, fires and safety at the Y PT 1

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This Old Economist: “Raise corporate and luxury taxes”

I stand by my title re raising taxes.

Sure, I’ll make my fair share of enemas. (That's right. I work at a medical supply center).

But based on a recent, short, economic blurb, I feel Canada and the US - by raising corporate taxes and income tax for big-rollers and taxes on luxury items - could slow runaway national debts, rope in growing budgetary deficits and beef up all-important educational programs for students and young adults caught in the grips of unemployment.

(Can the residents of Harperville hear me?)

Before you choke on your glass of Chateau Lafite 1787 (sold at Christie's London in 1985 for $160,000), here’s the blurb:


$359 billion - The amount rich Americans are forecast to spend on luxury goods in 2011, according to an American Express and Harrison Group (no relation) survey. That’s up 8% from last year. (Apr. 16, London Free Press)

Taxes are not nearly high enough on the upper crust of society. One less bottle of wine per year won’t hurt them.

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Please click here for more from This Old Economist.

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Sunday, April 17, 2011

Cartoon in Progress: “Life’s like that, eh” 3



“Barry hoped that his nervous little cough wouldn’t bother the large man at the bus stop.”

gah

It's funnier if you picture Barry wearing a Speedo.

***

Please click here to view Cartoon in Progress 2

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“IT STRIKES” Again: Of saunas, bathing suits, fires and safety at the Y

[The following story was first published in The Londoner on Oct. 17, 2002 under my current byline, It Strikes Me Funny. The story is funnier if you picture me in a Speedo. gah]


["Oh yeah. It's Speedo season and I'm ready!": GH circa last Thanksgiving]

“Attention Members: The Men’s Plus dry sauna is closed indefinitely due to the fact someone put their bathing suit in the sauna and it caught fire.”

Though I’ve been a member of the Downtown YMCA for several years and am used to seeing notices posted on the front counter (e.g., The gate is up, The pool will be closed next week, or General members, bring your own towels for crying out loud!), I haven’t spotted the latest message before.

And I haven’t thought much about the Mens’ Plus membership or the availability of a dry sauna. Would I like to use a sauna on occasion? Would I like to put on my swimsuit, read my paper in the sauna and occasionally burst into flames? Honest, I haven’t thought about it. My general membership provides enough stimulation for the time being.

When I walk into the Downtown Y I’m content to follow my established routine. I find a locker close to the mirrors and admire my amazing muscular definition. Ha! I quickly change from pedestrian clothes to athletic gear, check behind me to make sure my t-shirt isn’t tucked into my underwear, sprint up two flights of stairs (hoping to look athletic) and stretch a bit before tackling the hardest part of the regimen - trying to look like I have some clue about what to do next. I think about warming up and feeling the burn but my shorts never get close to catching on fire. The Plus members must follow a more rigorous exercise program.

I paused on my way out of the Y the other day to speak to the young employee working at the front counter.

“Hi. This is an interesting notice about the dry sauna,” I began, pointing toward Attention Members.

“Yes, the alarm went off and the fire department had to come,” she said. “Were you here that day?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not that I can remember,” I responded.

(I later recalled I had been at the YMCA on that fateful day. I was having a shower when the alarm sounded. I remember deciding that since I was already wet and the swimming pool was only 15 feet away from where I was standing I would probably be safe. I couldn’t imagine a fire would sweep through the shower and then chase me into the swimming pool. I couldn’t imagine I would run naked into the pool area either, but in an emergency I’m sure people are capable of doing lots of interesting things.)

Tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of ‘Of saunas, bathing suits, fires and safety at the Y’.

***

Please click here to read another episode of “IT STRIKES” Again.

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Saturday, April 16, 2011

The Workshop: Jelly Beans take time

Cutting and painting trim for windows and doors for Jelly Bean birdhouses take time. There are so many colours to try.


Next stop: Assemble six windows and doors, nail each in place, paint ‘Welcome’ over each of the doors, make an authentic-looking address plaque (featuring names of real streets found in St. John’s, NFLD) for the empty space at the top of each birdhouse face.


E.g., Newfoundland Drive, Water Street, Flower Hill Road.



["Ever visited Jelly Bean Row in St. John's?": photos GH]

So, now you know what I do on rainy days, like today.

***

Please click here for more photos and brilliant commentary from The Workshop.

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Zoom w a View: Double the pleasure

A double daffodil is blooming in our garden under cloudy skies.




I’ll keep my eye on it over the next few days.

If it’s true that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’, then I can look forward to several pleasurable moments when the sun finally comes back to my corner of Canada.




["All photos by GH2": ) ]

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Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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It Strikes Me Funny: Wanted - hoodie w bigger pockets

[hoodie - sweatshirt with a hood and a very large pocket in front, capable of carrying, but not limited to, walkman and headphone. The Urban Dictionary]


My youngest son must be decluttering, as I am at present. He gave me a hoodie last Sunday, never been worn. Price tag still on it. Excellent.

It comes with a special feature for the musically inclined. That’s me all over. I’m singing along to ‘Angie’ by The Rolling Stones while I type.

(“Let me whisper in your ear. Angie. Angie.” Oh yeah, Baby.)


Strategically placed ports. My sweatshirts didn’t have that feature when I was a hip kid back in the 1960s. Hip times 2. H2.


Unfortunately, after locating the right earbud, I discovered my 10-transistor radio didn’t fit inside the pocket.


Stink. Foiled by NIKE and their belief that modern-day hipsters only rely on compact units these days, like 8-track players, single cassette recorders or Sony Walkmans. Or iPud, or whatever.


["All photos by Global Gord aka H2"]

Can I get a hoodie with bigger pockets, please?

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Please click here for more It Strikes Me Funny.

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Friday, April 15, 2011

I Ask You: "Have you ever seen this LP album?"

I’m in the process of decluttering the house, one room at a time.

But I suffered a setback the other day. I brought someone else’s stuff home. I took it right out of his trunk. Three LPs. One rugby shirt. That’s no way to reduce the amount of gear in a house. I know.


["Eddie, you're getting to be a drag!": photos GH]

However, one album just had to be photographed before it goes back out the door. (I showed you the other two yesterday).


["That's right, Baby. Earl and I got things to do."]

I ask you: Have you ever seen this album? Do you own it? How much would you pay for another one?!


In my opinion, it’s very funny on a few levels, but... now that I’ve taken the picture, it’s 'locomotion' time, right out the door, baby.

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Please click here to read another I Ask You.

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Live Small: PT 4: Time (again) to declutter

[Today’s big financial numbers: 40% - The number of Canadians who trash more than $400 of unwanted household items instead of selling them in their annual spring clearouts, according to a survey by Kijiji. April 14, London Free Press]


While I declutter one room at a time, I hope to earn a little money from the sale of my stunning trash. Most will go out to the curb or to Good Will Industries, but some will be lovingly photographed and posted on London Kijiji.


["Old pants anyone?": photos GH]

I have a pair of jeans, almost new, that I planned to sell. But I tried them on this morning. Good grief. They fit again. My ‘fun and fitness routine’ must be working. I'm wearing them now but will consider selling them again in the future.

This morning I found one of the last pairs of ‘school pants’ hiding at the back of the closet and... they’re in the ‘out’ box. But not for sale. Who would want to wear an old pair of an old school teacher’s pants? Ha! Not me.




However, I think I’ll try to get a few bucks for 3 LPs, hat pins and a Bob Dylan scrapbook.

Five bucks.

Anyone? Anyone?

***

Please click here to read more about my decluttering process in Live Small Pt 3.

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Bits and Pieces: Debate - the smartest animal trick

[Crows Have Human-Like Intelligence, Author Says

Crows make tools, play tricks on each other, and caw among kin in a dialect all their own.

These are just some of the signs presented in a recent book that point to an unexpected similarity between the wise birds and humans. - National Geographic News]


After filling the bird feeder with seed this afternoon, and while digging in the garden, a forlorn mewing sound caught my attention.


["Be prepared. Carry a pellet gun": photo of GH circa 1952]

It seemed to be coming from behind my tall blue spruce tree. Concerned, I walked around the tree. And there, atop a fence rail, lay a black squirrel, looking very troubled.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” I asked. It didn’t scurry off. It watched me warily but continued to cry.

Maybe it’s hungry, I thought. But because squirrels had raided my feeder all winter, whilst keeping birds at bay, I felt little sympathy toward it.

Like crows, squirrels are smart enough to get their own food year round without my help. I shushed the squirrel and returned to my digging.

As soon as I reached my shovel I noticed my bird feeder - freshly loaded with seed - was missing from the back deck. Three black bushy tails disappeared over the side fence, along with a burlap sack large enough to hold the missing feeder. I swear one critter carried a crow bar.

I quickly turned to look over my shoulder. The crying squirrel flicked its tail and was gone.

Stink! Tricked again.

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Please click here for more Bits and Pieces.

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