Operation Clean My Room

I think it's time for a two week update on Operation Clean My Room.  What started out as an innocent pile sorting turning into a huge undertaking that has involved moving every single piece of furniture I own (some of them more than once).  In true Katie-style, it has continued to explode and I've made a bigger mess than I have cleaned.

Yesterday I moved on to (what I hope is) the last step before the serious clean up begins.  It was time to sort the newspapers.  I have this fetish where I collect newspaper articles.  I don't really have a good way to store them (suggestions welcome), so they get heaped onto my desk that has officially been unusable for at least the last five years.

The newspaper clippings started innocently enough.  An article I was mentioned in for honor roll or tennis.  The obits of someone I knew.  A review of concerts I'd attended.  Then it exploded.  Anything that struck my interest and would probably still be talked about in a few years.  John Glenn orbiting the earth again.  When my friend (and several others) died in a bus crash that made state-wide news.  The year my town was pummeled with tornado warnings and flash flooding for two solid weeks.  The bridge that collapsed over the Mississippi in Minneapolis.  Yep, September 11th.  You name it, I've got it.

As long as I was in charge of my project, it was controlled.  To an extent.  It's when other people started helping that it turned into a ten-inch heap of newspapers.  Since she knows about (and shares) my hand-washing passion, my aunt saved an article in her hospital's newsletter about their new game plan for cleanliness.  My grandma saved every paper that mentioned a movie filmed in her town and gave the stack of papers to me.  Somehow I've got a rather thick collection of "Brett Favre's retiring" (and un-retiring) papers.

I don't clip as many articles as I used to but that doesn't mean I'm ready to part with the ones I have.  Mom got involved.  "Katie, you know how to wash your hands.  You wash them at all of these times listed and then some," she said, throwing my anti-hospital-aquired infections article in the garbage.  She also threw away programs to the music festival we've attended for the last eight years and the TV Guide from when Ty Pennington was on the cover promoting Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

It hurt.  But it was necessary.

Often times, that's how God calls us to clean up our lives.  Trim away the unnecessary newspapers about what our life used to be like.  Pitch and purge anything unusable.  Despite sentimental attachment, sometimes things must go.  Behaviors, thoughts, ideas, companions.  It is extreme makeover: life edition and it's more painful than extreme makeover: bedroom edition.

Yet I know every paper cut I have obtained was worth being able to sit at my desk again to write.  Is everything you must let go of worth being drawn closer to God?  Wash your hands of the aspects in your life that aren't growing you closer to Him.  Sit back and let Him work.

Take a few minutes and watch The Skit Guys skit on this idea.  Even if you've seen it before, watch it again.

God bless,
<>< Katie

PS: It's my future roommate's birthday today.  Love you, Jennifer!

Is this normal?

I've got a not-so-rare genetic disease.  I got it from my mom.  My sisters have it, too, but theirs isn't as severe.

When I was home in March, we couldn't park Maxwell (my dad's car) in the garage because there were new windows there.  They couldn't put the new windows in until the wood floor on the first floor was refinished.  They couldn't refinish the floor until they (a) decided on a color (b) sanded down all of the footboards in the entire house and refinished those with three coats of varnish.  Yes, my mother on her hands and knees sanding the upstairs bathroom (with linoleum floor and no windows) is getting us one step closer to a refinished wood floor and replaced windows.  Two months later, the windows are still in the garage.  This is our disease: the inability to complete one project before moving on to the next.

My arrival home spurred a big episode...
My task: unpack the cars and fit everything into my bedroom or under the ping pong table downstairs.  The living room make be borrowed but only until Laura's graduation party in late June.

Step One: clean the bedroom
This means all of the papers previously heaped neatly in the corner under the window are now sorted in piles and scattered across the room.  Before finding homes for all of these "important documents" I moved on to step two.

Step Two: Operation Bookshelf
My family's notorious for trying to fit too much furniture in a single room.  Right now, that room is my bedroom.  It's already full with a matching bedroom set, I've added two white CD cases, and now a Dad-made bookshelf.  Problem: there is no wall space for the bookshelf.  I began sorting and piling next to the door to find a space for said bookshelf, thus adding to the mountains of paper sorted neatly all over the room.  I also entertian the idea of rearranging every piece of furniture in my bedroom in order to accomodate said bookshelf.  However, I then remember Mom and I have no upper body strength and Dad's not allowed to lift anything heavy.  He's never been one for the rules, so I don't dare tempt him.  Time to move on to step three.

Step Three: You have a window seat?
Well, a windowseat for the cats.  It's so full of stuff animals that sometimes I'm working in my room for a solid five minutes before I realize one of my stuff animals is moving... hello, Cow (our holstein kitty whose name is really Sparkle).  All of the stuff animals have been sorted into two piles: keep, donate.  Donate pile moves to Mom and Dad's bedroom.  Keep pile stays on my bed.  Long-term they go into a plastic tub I have in the basement, but, go figure, it's on the bottom of the stack of tubs.  Dad's still not allowed to lift anything heavy.

Step Four: Put photos in picture frames
You've had those picture frames for years; maybe it's time you put something in them.  Go downstairs to the computer with a printer and search for the perfect photos.  While you're waiting for the page to load, waste no time and blog a little bit.  Make sure to read Kevin's hilarious blog about the humbling experience that was dislocating his shoulder.  (Yes, Mr. "Katie, you update too much" forgot about his blog for a month... at least I'm loyal to my readers)

Step Five: Dad wants his car back
Translation: get your dorm room out of Maxwell.  Freshman year, my dorm room lived in the living room all summer.  Last year, it was almost a month before I unpacked my car (named Andy).  We'll see what happens this year.

Step Six: Bedtime.
Oh, snap.  I have a bed?  And a safe fire escape for the middle of the night?  Let's put these papers into a nice pile under the window, the stuff animals can live on the windowseat, and the bookshelf can chill in the middle of the room.  What a successful day!  :-)

Do you have this disease too?  To my knowledge there is no known cure.  However, books have be written about this horrible condition.  They are entitled: If You Give a Moose a Muffin and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.  Check them out at your local library, don't forget to put gas in your car and pick up cheese at the grocery store on the way there.

<>< Katie

Definition of Furniture 101

"Are the dogs allowed on the furniture?" Evie asked this afternoon.

"No! Why?" Grandpa responded. He pretends to not like the dogs, and when there are four of them running around I guess I can understand that.

"Well, Russell was on the sofa, and I didn't know... I'll tell him to get down next time," she explained, looking at me as if I should have known to shoo Russell off the couch.

"Oh, that don't matter. The dogs ain't allowed on the tree... the lamps... the tv... that kind of stuff," Grandpa told her and she and I both looked at each other and stifled laughs.

"But the couch don't matter?" She asked.

"Nah. That couch ain't furniture," he clarified.

Charlie Brown Christmas trees are furniture.
Lamps are furniture.
TVs are furniture.
A couch is not furniture.

Thanks for clarifying, Grandpa.
<>< Katie

Holding History in my Hands

I kind of want to just see how many days in a row I can update my blog. Posting comments might encourage me to be more diligent.

I don't remember where I read this, but I read it within the last few days. It said, "Everyday, do something you don't want to do." I had to read it twice before I really understood it. Everyday, do something you don't want to do. Some days I just don't want to get up in the morning. Other days, I don't want to clean. Today was both of those days.

I awoke this morning to "Moving Day" at my grandparents house. No one was really moving, but the furniture was. It's hard to sleep when someone's carrying beds and dressers down the hall and stairs right next to your room anywhere much less in an old farmhouse where the floor squeaks if you look at it. Then--go figure--they need something out of your room. It's hard to keep four dogs out and ten people quiet anywhere, but it's even harder at my grandparents'.

The men loaded the furniture into trucks and the women decided we should take the opportunity to go through some boxes. After all, we were all there, and the boxes needed to be moved anyway. It was a job no one really wanted to do but desperately had to be done! My grandmother is a pack-rat, and it seems whenever someone passes away, she gets their stuff. She has all of her mother's stuff, all of her friend Ruth's stuff, and some of other miscellaneous friends' stuff. As a result, my grandparents' five-bedroom farmhouse, barn, and garage are FULL! Someone had to sleep on the floor last night. Not because there weren't enough beds, but because we couldn't GET to all of the beds. Every room in their house is a fire hazard.

We started going through boxes. Ruth's stuff has the least sentimental value, takes up the most space, and has been sitting un-touched for the most years (because we don't know what's in there), so it was a good place to start. We went through a plethora of old boxes and each of us came home with an item or two. Then, a truck load when to Good Will. We even made sure the truck left and everything wasn't piled back into the house, too! (We're getting smarter in our old age).

There were some cool items. Like a WWI military pin that my cousin snatched up before I could claim. A plethora of handkerchiefs we gave to a friend. My mom got a martini shaker. My aunt found a pretty crystal vase. My sisters took necklaces, books, and bent-out-of-shape rings. I wasn't so excited about Ruth's stuff, although I did find a fun-colored kitchen set I'm storing at my grandparents' house until I have an apartment.

I was more excited about the fact that Grandma let me go through her books and see if there was anything in there I wanted. After all, I am an English major. She'd already gotten rid of a lot of them (yay for Grandma!), and she wanted to rid of the rest before we came back at Thanksgiving. I'd already read most of the titles and searched for a good book to read on other visits, but this time I was searching with a different intention.

I only pulled out a few books. A dictionary of quotable definitions from 1970. Grandma was sooooo excited that I wanted it. I'll have to add "reading the dictionary" to my interests on facebook... haha.

I asked Grandma if I could have her hymnal. It was a confirmation gift given to her by her parents in 1952! She said I couldn't take it today, but at some point, yes, I could have it. I pray maybe she'll read it, though the chances are unlikely.

One of my coolest finds for the day was actually in Ruth's stuff. It's a medical book from 1912. It's well-loved, even though all of the pages are still in tact. Even though I know it's really out-dated, and I don't really plan on reading it, it's still something cool to have. How many people have books from before World War One? Not to mention one where it's very easy to note changes and technological advancements since then! I just felt like it was something that shouldn't be lost in the house (or the piles for Good Will). If you ever want to know the 1912 treatment for something, let me know! :-)

Even though cleaning anyone's house does not sound like a fun job and was not on my list of things to do today: it was well worth it! There are only six words that seem appropriate for the hard work done today:
"Well done good and faithful servant."

Ok, maybe a little sac-religious, but it works!

Sorry, this is a really long, pointless post, but thanks for reading!

In Christ
<>< Katie

"His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'" Matthew 25:21