I read an article about decluttering by some smartarse Japanese bird this morning. Well, I say I read it, I sort of skimmed it. Skimmed it and saved it for future reading. I don’t know why I didn’t just read it there and then, but my life’s full of saved links for future reading, unread books, unfinished knitting, carrier bags of random shit and drawers full of guilt and life admin (clusterfuck of) waiting to pounce the minute the fresh air hits them. Ugh.
I need to revisit the mindfulness thing. I need to learn how to live in the moment instead of constantly thinking I should be doing something else. I never actually achieve anything unless it’s to do with food or buying makeup, preferring instead to store things away, either mentally or physically, for a future time that never comes. Is it just me?
The aforementioned Japanese bird, whose name is in fact Marie Kondo, so I’ll do her the service of using it, has written this book. I don’t know how she found the time. Surely she has fags to smoke at the back door and makeup to buy? I know the bare bones of how she recommends we declutter, but not the detail, which sums me up really. Something about black bin bags, decluttering by category instead of room and ditching anything that doesn’t make you feel joyful when it’s in your hands. (Oh, so many jokes!) I visualise her sitting in her neat, minimalist Tokyo apartment drumming her fingers on the arm of her neat chair, wondering what she did with that battery operated twirling spaghetti fork she ruthlessly decluttered from her kitchen rummage drawer, before One-Clicking another one from Amazon. You find that happens after a massive tidy – you suddenly need the thing you hadn’t used for ten years.
I’m trying to chuck out a thing a day. I’ve stuff I haven’t unpacked since I moved here last February. Boxes full of old toot I’ll never need or use, including fancy vintage china cups and saucers and a collection of empty DVD boxes. You’d think these things would be first to go but no. Today I’ve chucked out two baggy old cardigans and an assortment of knitting wool. Unfortunately I received a new purple cardigan in the post today so it’s two steps forward one back. I hereby promise not to purchase any more wool though. I’ve a seventies tank top to finish which I enthusiastically started knitting for Les but I did three rows and got bored with the slow progress. I suspect she’s secretly dreading that I ever actually finish it and she has to wear it. It’s taking so long though! Why’s she not the size of a borrower instead of a big Amazonian with massive feet? (I merely mention her massive feet because feet are an indicator of body size, are they not?)
On the subject of knitting (I know this blog post is all over the bloody place and full of brackets, shoddy grammar and poor sentence construction but who cares?) I knitted a tea cosy that was supposed to look like a cupcake a while ago. I don’t know why – I don’t own a teapot. When it was finished it resembled a large pendulous breast instead of a cupcake. Let’s all pray that Les’s tank top doesn’t turn out like that. Even if it does, she’ll bloody well wear it and she’ll damn well look happy about it too.
For your Wednesday enjoyment, here’s Tucker modelling the tit tea cosy. I found it during the decluttering.