It’s a beautiful day in Melbourne, we’re getting some sun after officially the wettest winter on record. It is so lovely to sit at a window looking at trees blowing gently in the warm wind, to then walk home at lunchtime with the sun on my skin. The start of the warmer weather actually matched up with the ‘official start of spring’ according to the calendar. I can’t tell you how many years in the UK I’ve looked at the start of ‘Spring’ through big fat raindrops or under grey skies or rugged up like an Eskimo.
Panic not, I’m not exposing anything more than my forearms as I didn’t get a chance to sort through the summer wardrobe over the weekend as we were busy all day, both days. Rotating out the winter suits to make room for the summer dresses is on my to-do list for the week ahead though. Not that it takes much work, as I’ve only got two winter suits and then just tend to wear short sleeves instead of long sleeves, but I don’t have a clue what in the summer clothes bag. I do know I don’t have many (if any) long skirts, mainly because sitting on a wheelie desk chair, you tend to wreck them. I have had a comedy moment where I’d managed to get completely tangled and fell over, very graceful and I still have the carpet burn scar on my knee. I’m hoping I still fit in the shorts I sweated over finding (pun intended) last summer, lordy how I hate shopping for shorts
But wearing dresses, skirts or shorts means getting legs out. Legs that are normally covered in long trousers, or jeans, or thick black tights (they cover a multitude of sins I can tell you). I have good legs, thanks to years of swimming, but I don’t get a chance to get out in the sun much, so before I can bare anything, I need to begin the annual fake tan/moisturising task, lest I dazzle people when I walk around. Combine that with my chronic clumsiness, I am normally peppered in bruises as well. Getting legs out in public needs a good week to ten days work for girls, whereas boys just go ‘stuff it’ and wear shorts.
I’m sure most people have the same problem: you can’t keep track of everything you own, unless you pare back to what you actually need. Hubs and I are in that process now and have been off and on for the past couple of months. I’ve written before about Project 333, and while I love it, having a toddler and working in an office doesn’t allow for much of a cross-over between the two main different functions I perform. Gym clothes are excluded, (yay!), as I’m busily getting busy being a gym bunny again, but I can’t often wear what I would at weekends into the office. Not that it bothers some people judging by some of the outfits I’ve seen on Dress-Down-Fridays over my career in offices, oh my.
As Spring was upon us, Hubs and I started sorting through our belongings last week for a charity run. Peanut got given a heap of toys from his older cousin this weekend, while he’s over the moon with the cars and various Buzz Lightyear’s that have appeared, I’m tempted to do another review of his toys again. Compared to other children, his toy cupboard is pretty sparse, but he only plays with a few toys at a time. He also gets a steady rotation of 100s of toys at nursery, so we both think that he quite likes having a small amount of toys that are familiar. I went through the sideboards in the dining room on Friday night, I know we’ve 1001 plastic pots, but we’re due for a major batch cooking session, so I can honestly say that there is nothing in the kitchen I can now donate. My books I will go through this week too, the more you review what you own, the more you’re able to donate or sell. It gets easier all the time.
I don’t want to be owned by stuff, so that it weighs me down and holds me back. I’ve a few keepsake boxes, but after Peanut upended them last month and I had to put them back together, I got rid of cards, confetti and some things that at the time were important to me. Yes they triggered memories, but only when I looked at them. If I keep the things in a box, they’re not honouring the memories, are they? The truly powerful things we own are on display, proudly in our home. I’d rather have photos in an album to be shared with people, rather than in a box where they mean nothing to anyone, just being pieces of paper. It looks like my spring cleaning project has clarified itself while I typed this. Now, how did I get from the weather to decluttering?