How To Systematically Get Rid Of Stuff You No Longer Need: Rule #1 Make a List

We are continuing our blog theme that offers common sense ideas for DECLUTTERING your living space.  Rule #1 is to make a list.  The list should be in three broad categories: T is for Throwaway, G is for Giveaway, and S for Saleable Items.  Under these three broad categories, write down specific areas on which you will concentrate.  This first draft of your list does not have to be all inclusive.  And of course the areas will differ depending on your lifestyle and the stuff that you have accumulated over the years.  For example, the young couple with small kids would no doubt include areas like baby items, toys, children’s clothing, etc.  For us empty nesters, we would include areas such as clothing, shoes, household items, books, tapes and dvds, old electronic equipment, golf clubs, Christmas decorations, other holiday decorations, kitchen appliances, old pictures, clocks, radios, and the list could go on and on.

How do you determine which category to put an item in?  Well, obviously if the item is no longer working or the piece of clothing or the pair shoes are worn out, then they would go in the T pile.  The Gs include anything that is still usable, still works, or is still wearable.  The S categoryis an area that I am currently learning more about.  I have furniture that I am presently trying to sell on various web sites.  I have given myself 2 to 3 months to use this avenue to sell these pieces, but this furniture must be gone before I move in about three months.  Since they are nice pieces of furniture, and still have some value, my next step will be to explore area consignment shops so that at least I can get something for them.  I will keep you posted and let you know how it goes.

The hardest thing about DECLUTTERING is getting started.  But once you get started, it becomes a very liberating experience.  When I moved from Michigan to Florida and 2011, I significantly downsized my stuff.  It started off being a very painful experience to part with items that I had accumulated for over 30 years.  I even had items in the storage area of my basement that belonged to my parents who have been deceased for over 25 years.  I had literally thousands of books, including textbooks that belonged to me or my daughter from our respective high school and college years.  For some strange reason, I had kept every General Motors check stub from 1974 to 2002 when I retired.  I had a box containing my mother’s canceled checks dating back to the 1980s.  I had bedding for beds that I no longer owned, and draperies and tablecloths that I no longer needed.  Some of these items I kept because I felt they had a sentimental value, but other items I just kept because I had the space and I always thought that one day I would painstakingly go through these items and decide what to keep and what to get rid of.  Well that time came in 2011 when I knew that I could not take all that stuff with me to Florida.  It was tough getting started trying to decide which  category to put all this stuff in, but once I got started it became a very liberating experience.  To free oneself from encumbrances of all kinds gives one a sense of freedom and lightness. 

 

I realized that I could not take over 1,000 books with me to Florida.  I allowed myself two boxes of books.  Deciding which books would make the cut was very painful, but the ones that I kept have special meaning.  And the Canton MI Public Library benefited from all those books that I donated to the library for their resale shop.

 Shoes were also very difficult to go through because I was one of those women who had shoes for every occasion whether that occasion actually happened or not.  I had a shoe jones and shoes were in every closet and in every space available.  I allowed myself two Rubbermaid tubs of shoes to take to Florida.  I lined up all my shoes (and there were hundreds of them), and systematically chose shoes based on need and not want.  So I wound up with one tub of gym shoes, flip flops and sandals, and the second sub was filled with dressy flats and heels.  My daughter gave me the best advice that helped me to break the logjam of indecision when she said “Mom, how many pair of black pumps do you really need?” The correct answer was one, and the rest went into the giveaway or throwaway piles.

Clothing can be difficult to sort through.  It is true that most of us wear 20% of our clothing 80% of the time.  So, in your quest to declutter your clothes closets, I suggest that you give yourself 30 days to observe those pieces of clothing that you actually wear.  So, for our present warm weather season, put together outfits and cluster your clothing in your closet so that your “go-to” outfits are close at hand.  As you wear each outfit, and after washing or dry cleaning the item, put it back in your closet but turn the hanger in the opposite direction.  That way, at the end of 30 days you’ll be able to see that 20% that you’re actually wearing, and then you would have identified that 80% of your clothing that you do not wear very often and that you need to assess.

 Well, I hope that by this weekend some of you will get started on making your lists and making your cuts of what to throw away, give away, or set up.

 

So, let’s go!  More next time…

 

Help! Where Did All This STUFF Come From?!

Unless you’re in the rarified air with people who are almost obsessively neat and clutter free, then you exist somewhere between the "lived-in look" comfortable abode and the college life of slobbiness.

 We clean out of necessity; we throw away and declutter when our stuff is taking over our living space. It can be overwhelming to get started. But declutter we must, unless we are auditioning for Hoarders. My friend Jan calls it decraptitizing.

 Put decrapitizing on your personal calendar. All this stuff wasn’t accumulated on a weekend, so don’t expect  a couple of Saturday afternoons to get it all sorted out.  If you don’t have big chunks of time, then give it 20 minutes of your time on a regular basis. For example, when I tackle the stack of paper that I’ve discreetly hidden in a basket beneath my desk, I set my phone timer for 20 minutes. I laser beam on getting rid of as much paper as I can during that time. Paper either must be filed, put in a to-do folder with a date on it, or thrown away. When the 20 minutes are up, I’m done, and I leave the remaining paper to tackle on another day (or another 20 minutes later on that same day).

 

I call these 20 minutes a Power Sweep. I apply the time factor to cleaning the bathroom, folding clothes, or any other task around the house that can be done in a short period of time – if we just focus. Let me tell you- multi-tasking is highly overrated and can distract you from doing one thing well and finishing it. How many times have you strolled into your bedroom, exhausted after a long day, only to discover that a few hours earlier you dropped a dryer full of warm towels on your bed, thinking you could quickly fold them and put them away – and then the phone rang, a kid needed your attention, or you stepped away – and you forgot they were there?  20 Minute power sweeps can help. You focus on completing that ONE THING, and you have a very high probability of completing that task. Of course, you can adjust the time-there's no magic to 20 minutes; set a time that works best for you.

 

I learned how to do 20 minute power sweeps while working at GM headquarters. It was an excellent way to keep your desk or workspace clutter free. Time Management 101...and I discovered that it could be applied to my personal life to more effectively manage my time as a working mom.

 

Now, on to truly one of my all-time favorite things; making lists. Be sure to check in next time!!

Letting Go and Moving Ahead

You'll never guess in a million years what this blog post is about today. It's about letting go of STUFF. You know, clothes, furniture, paper, old appliances, etc. With as much activity as Americans generate on eBay, Craigslist, et al, I can safely assume that a lot of you are in the same boat as I am. What to do with STUFF that has outlived its usefulness in your life?

 I'm in DECLUTTERING MODE again. But, this isn't my first rodeo; in the past 25 years, I've upsized, downsized, upsized again, and then drastically downsized when I moved to Florida several years ago. Now, I fight an ongoing battle to avoid clutter and to make sure that everything has a place to be. The new rule if that I desire a new sauté skillet, the old one has to be battered enough to be thrown out, because my small kitchen does not have room for two. On the rare occasions that I buy shoes nowadays ( I have final succumbed to a Florida lifestyle of flip flops and sandals virtually year-round), the new rule is that a pair (or two) have to go to either a charity, resale shop, or the trash heap. This new rule really cuts down on impulsive buying!

If you're being overwhelmed by your stuff or perhaps you're getting ready to move or merge, here's a short list that I've developed over the years that can get you started

How To Systematically Get Rid Of Stuff You No Longer Need

#1. Make a list, then place stuff in broad categories.
#2. Determine if each item is Trash (T), Giveaway (G), or Saleable (S).
#3. Collect all the T's and throw them out. If it's a large item, call your local municipality for their policy on picking up large items at the curb.
#4. Collect all the G's, wash/clean. Original owners manuals, recipe booklets, original boxes, etc. are a plus. Take them to your local charities that resell items to generate income and jobs. I use (in no particular order of preference) Salvation Army, Goodwill, Purple Heart, Veterans of Foreign Wars, to name a few. You may have a local charity or church that has a resale shop. Do a little research, and then haul all that stuff away! Some charities will pick up large pieces at no cost o you. And don't forget shelters. I once donated a girl's white bedroom set to a women's shelter in Pontiac, MI and they were very happy to get it. I even donated a car to a local charity. Although it no longer ran, they came out and hauled it away on a flatbed truck. All the G's are tax deductible, so make sure to get receipts.
#5. Take a critical review of your S items. Research comparable items on Craigslist, eBay, or local swap blogs or Facebook pages. Do a page for each item that includes at least one picture, description, age of item, specifications and measurements, and a firm asking price. Then go for it! Your trash may be some else's treasure! But be careful...more on this later with safety tips for selling stuff on the Internet.

My next few blog entries will explore each of these 5 options for getting rid of stuff you no longer need.

My Dog Buddy

Today is the first day that I am using voice commands to create and edit documents in Word documents.  I often have fleeting thoughts about writing ideas for either a blog, a book, or an article.  I do not take the time to write them down, so most of them are lost.  Using voice commands is a new way for me to write what I’m thinking, and since I can speak far faster and more effectively than I can type, I pray that I may be able to write more often and more effectively.

Today I want to talk about my dog Buddy.  Buddy is my rescue dog who is a Cocker Spaniel, and our best guess is that he is about 12 years old.  He came to us in 2008 during a period in which I went back to work on a full-time basis after having retired from GM a few years before that.  My dog Honey was an only dog (also a Cocker Spaniel), and I felt guilty that she was home alone all day, despite the fact that I hired a mid - day walking service for her.  So, I began my search online for an adult cocker, male, who was in need of a good forever home.  Within just a few weeks into my search we found Buddy, and it was love at first sight.

Buddy is a lover, and just loves to be loved.  He is an affectionate dog, and very good natured.  He has been a wonderful addition to the Mcfarland household, and a wonderful dog brother to Honey.  It saddens me that Buddy has an inoperable tumor on his left hind leg that is growing rapidly.  The veterinarian says that the tumor cannot be removed, no matter if it is benign or malignant; it is just in a bad spot, and to remove it would mean amputating his leg.  At his age, it is not advised that we do a leg amputation.  So, we have entered a period of the “the long goodbye.”  I will keep him comfortable, will note any distress, pain, or changes in his eating or pooping habits, and show him all the love and attention that I can possibly give.

I’ve never experienced this before with a beloved pet.  I just pray that I will have the strength and courage to do the right thing at the right time.  I love you Buddy.  I promise to take care of you for all of your life, until the end of your life.  That is my a promise to you.

Operating in the Flow

Did you ever have one of those days? I mean one in which you just flow through the day effortlessly, without a care in this world? I've been having a string of them lately, and the only thing to which I can attribute it is that God will give you perfect peace if you keep your eyes stayed on Him.
Retirement can be a beautiful thing, but it's so easy to get caught up in a busy schedule, rushing to and fro, and feeling just as tired at the end of the day as when one had a full time, demanding job. I've had to do a "self correction" recently to clear the underbrush of "make busy" activities that have nothing to do with my God-directed purpose in life.
Some of you know that my only child resides in a nursing home and is fighting the progression of MS. I am her legal guardian and her mother, so my main focus most days is to assure that she is okay. After that, my focus is on the "assignments" that God gives me-some small and some big. God knows me better than I know myself, and although sometimes I complain to Him that I'm retired, He gently pricks my heart, makes my spirit contrite, and says patiently, "Dee, I KNOW. I created you...I knew you before the foundation of the world...before you were formed in your mother's womb. I have plans for you to DO MORE, to GIVE MORE, to LOVE MORE."
I will start sharing with you, gentle readers, some of those God-directed assignments in future posts. Just suffice it to be said today that I am aware that it is my reasonable service to do that which glorifies my heavenly Father. Enough whining and complaining! Let's do this with JOY! Let's operate in the flow of the Holy Spirit leading me into all truth, and being anxious for nothing.
More to come...

Florida Rain

It's June in central Florida and the rainy season has officially begun. Good for the farmers, not so good for the beach goers like me. But I've discovered that the beach can still be fun on a cloudy day.
First of all, it's not crowded; all the sun bunnies have stayed in. So you have lots more beach to roam and not run into anybody (except for the surfers who are enjoying the high tide waves-not Hawaii, but a decent wave to catch every now and then). Second, if you enjoy a sauna, then you can enjoy that feeling right on the beach; lots of heat and humidity makes for a good sweat to clean out your pores! Forget about the hair-frizz is the order of the day-just wash it, mousse it, finger comb it, and let it go. And lastly, take a look at that magnificent Gulf of Mexico that God created! Holy cow, it's absolutely breathtakingly beautiful in all its different moods.
So, let the rainy days come! I will still enjoy God's wonderful nature, especially the wet and wild Florida beaches on a rainy day. That reminds me...better pack my "hurricane tub." If you live in Florida, you know exactly what that is...pack it and pray that you won't need it!

My Home Economics Teachers

I received word last week that two of my favorite high school teachers had recently passed away in the span of a week. Home Economics is not taught anymore, but in rural Monroe, Louisiana in the 1960s, it was taught lovingly and with a purpose of helping girls to learn homemaking skills. We learned to sew, how to cook, clean, do laundry, and set a proper table. Of course, some of us were taught these skills at home by our mothers and grandmothers, but high school home economics took homemaking to a higher level.
Mrs. Alma Ruth Simmons (later she remarried and became Cooper) and Mrs. Marie Adams, along with the deceased Mrs. Ivory Covington, held down the Home Econ wing of Carroll High School. The wing was attached to the main building by a breezeway and the lunchroom, and the wing was shared by the Science department for awhile, until a new building was constructed on the other side of the athletic field to house Math & Science. It was a large school, and more than a little intimidating for incoming freshman.
Our principal Henry Carroll (whose name was on the side of the building) ran the school with steely discipline. We marched in an orderly fashion to our classes, did not talk in the hallways, and were quiet as we could be when allowed to go to our lockers. Boys had to have shirttails tucked in, girls were not allowed to wear pants, and no one was allowed to wear jeans (denim was the stuff that laborers wore).
In this strict, segregated public school environment, there were spots of pure joy for me, a quiet and shy only girl child of a factory worker and a housewife. There was French, where a whole new world opened up to me with Mrs. Major; History, with jovial Mr. Jones, who made history so vibrant that I majored in it in undergraduate school; and then there were my Home Econ classes.
Going into the Home Econ wing brightened my day. We girls would lean forward in our seats to get everything that was being taught. We sewed and made skirts, dresses, and blouses with pride. We cooked and even our failures were lessons learned in the kitchen.
These teachers were teaching us GRACE. Because they all knew my mother, Willie Mae Smith, they took extra time with me, were patient, strict, but very kind and loving. I will never forget the lessons taught by Marie Adams and Alma Ruth Simmons Cooper. Their families are in my thoughts and prayers today and may they both rest in peace as good and faithful servants.

The Rhythm of the Day

It's another beautiful Monday in Sarasota, my retirement destination home of choice. Sometimes, it's still hard to believe that I moved here virtually sight unseen without knowing a soul. But I believe that it is my fate and it is God's will that I be here for this glorious season of my life.
The warm weather, perpetual sunshine and lush greenery suits me perfectly. It has taken awhile, but I'm getting into the rhythm of each day. After some pretty intense volunteer endeavors for the first 14 months here, I have slowed down and am learning how to cherish and relish each day.
I can't believe that I was caught up in a whirlwind of being so busy that I forgot (albeit momentarily) that I love music, and that my day is incomplete without it. After years of piano lessons, I can't play a lick, but I can read and I love to sing at the top of my lungs on most days, and preferably without an audience.
Most of my music is now digitally housed in iTunes, even the myriad of CDs that I copied over. The music is backed up on an external hard drive. I am now a baby boomer purchaser of any tune I hear and want to own. My Sirius XM radio in the car offers so much variety, although my favorite stations are gospel, watercolors and oldies from the 60s. I keep a pad and pen in the front seat to jot down the name and artist of anything that I hear and love.
It's amazing to me how my iPod can shuffle thousands of songs and come up with just the right combination of what I want-no, what I need to hear at that moment. Classical, jazz, blues, easy listening, and of course, my favorites, gospel and contemporary Christian.
I'm contemplating heading out to he beach today, but right now, after a marvelous walk with the doggies, I am enjoying the rhythm of my day.
I hope that you are too. 

Giving Myself Away...Again

Gail is a friend from Michigan who moved to Florida last year to be near her adult children and grandchildren. She lost her husband to a sudden heart attack a few years ago, but stayed in Michigan to be near her mother, who resided in a nursing home until she passed away last year.
I met Gail when we were both Realtors at Keller Williams. We became friends and spent time together, and even traveled together because her husband didn't care to travel. Gail is one of those people who never throws away a friend and has maintained friendships with folks all over the countrty that she has met through various stages in her life.
I always admired that about Gail; she has such a happy-go-lucky outlook on life that she doesn't allow anyone to rain on her parade. She is patient and kind, tenderhearted and thoughtful.
Her son called me the other day to tell me that Gail had fallen in the back yard while gardening and broke her hip. As she was being wheeled into ER, she made him promise to call me.
When Gail gets in a tight, she calls me. When her husband died in their home, the EMS technicians, police and neighbors were with her and she insisted that someone call me. So, I get a cryptic call from a police officer at 2 o'clock in the morning asking me to please come over because Gail needed me. He didn't say why, but I was there in a matter of minutes (we were neighbors), and I discovered her husband lying in the vestibule covered in a yellow tarp as they waited for the county coroner to show up. Gail and I spent the next few hours crying and praying and waiting for the family to fly in to help her make funeral arrangements.
As I pondered what I could do for her this time while she is recovering from hip replacement surgery, I remembered that sometimes you just need somebody to be with you. So I've offered and she has accepted that I will come and stay with her after her stint in rehab.
Why am I doing this? Because that's what friends do for friends. Amen.

What's Your Purpose?

One of my all-time favorite movies is Babe, a 1995 comedy-drama. It's the story of a little piglet who grew up on a farm, and who emulated the other animals because he had no other pigs to emulate. In the story, Ferdinand the duck was emulating a rooster by crowing at dawn every morning. Ferdinand saw that roosters had a purpose (to wake up humans every morning), and that roosters generally were safe from slaughter and being the next holiday meal. So, he acted like a rooster, with decidedly mixed results.

Babe the pig emulated the Border Collies on the farm and became good at helping herd and protect the sheep. But Babe's "Aha" moment came when he encountered the human's vain and evil-minded house cat, who said something to Babe that made me cry. The cat said, "pigs don't have a purpose." The cat went on to tell Babe what her purpose was, and what the purposes of the other farm animals were, but she assured Babe in no uncertain terms, that his only purpose was to wind up being bacon and ham on the human's table.

Babe was crushed. Imagine being told that you don't have a purpose, that you and all your kind are totally worthless. I love this story so much, because although I am an unadulterated lover of the occasional breakfast bacon, I saw myself in Babe. Growing up in the segreated South in the 1950s and 1960s, I was not expected to be much or to do much with my life. My "kind" were black folks who had been oppressed for centuries, and who struggled most often for survival, not equality and civil rights. But education was always preached by parents and other role models as the means of escape from poverty, and that education was the gateway to a better life.

I aspired to higher education not because of desiring a better life; I was so shielded from the cruelties of the world as a girl, that I didn't know what a better life was. We certainly had plenty of food to eat, a nice little house, a TV set, and a family car. If we were poor, I didn't know it. I just knew that there had to be something more to life out there in the world, and that I was destined to find out what that something more was. I embraced my destiny and my journey and I never looked back. I will always remember where I came from, but I will never go back to the oppression and hopelessness that black folks felt less than a century ago. As a young girl, I longed for a purpose, something beyond what my current reality was. As I strained forward, God started revealing to me what my true purpose in life was.

But getting back to Babe...his story ends well with finding his purpose and in a fairy tale ending, not becoming the porkloin served on Sunday.  His purpose in life was not for all pigs...his purpose was just for him.

Your purpose, your God-given reason for being here, may not fit the mold and be for anybody else but you. God created you for a purpose! It's your purpose, not for your mother, your father, your sister or your brother. Your purpose may take you places you've never dreamed of, and have you accomplish things that only God knew you were capable of accomplishing.

What's your purpose? If you don't know, seek God earnestly and openly with humbleness and prayer and supplication, and He will reveal Himself to you. Know your purpose already? Then seek His face to reinvigorate your purpose and dreams. He said he'd never leave you or forsake you...He's just a prayer away.. and wait for the small, still voice that gives you revelation to go to a higher level.

Find your purpose and remember Luke 12:32

Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.

Giving Myself Away

Growing older in Christian maturity definitely has its advantages. It makes you to be free from the underbrush of situations, and handing decisions over to God has really made me free.
I have a friend back in Michigan who, after a decades long strugglle, and six years of dialysis, received a kidney transplant last week. An older and highly educated man, he accepted his fate with his usual droll and dry sense of humor. After each setback, each painful death defying episode, he would bounce back with a kind word and a twinkle in his eye, despite the pain and the ever decreasing possibility that he would live long enough to get a kidney.
But God had a plan to restore him, just as he restored King Hezekiah in Is 38.
What gift do you send a person whom God has given another chance at life? Flowers? A card?
No. A still, small voice told me to send him a letter every day for a month.
Hand written letters have gone by the way of the dinosaurs, white gloves and tea parties. Who has the time in the 21st century to actually put pen to paper and write? And then, to actually back an envelope, add a stamp, and send that letter via snail mail?
I do. I'm going to do my part to bring back the personal, intimate way of communicating with another human being. What will I write about? My God, that won't be a problem. I can be chatty Cathy when it comes to writing. My prayer is that each letter will be received with a smile and anticipation of receiving good news from Florida.

Some younger friends have asked me what is mother wit, and why would I create a blog with that title. It's a mostly southern term, and one that I learned growing up in Monroe, LA. A good basic definition is:

mother wit n.Innate intelligence or common sense.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin  Company.  Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

 

 

I like to call it good common sense. It's the things your mother or other respected adults taught you during your childhood that stick with you throughout your entire life. It's knowing that if you stick your hand in fire, it's going to burn or knowing that there can be consequences to choices that you make.

 

Sometimes we can get so highly educated and esoteric in our thinking that common sense goes by the wayside as we attempt to analyze and study every issue that comes up in our lives. Now I'm not discounting education, because education has certainly brought me a mighty long way as a baby boomer woman of color. But let us not lose sight (or sense) of our innate, God-given talents with which we are all born.

 

God make each of us as uniquely as snowflakes, and He knew us before we were formed in our mothers' wombs. We each possess a special mixture of DNA that is uniquely ours, just like our fingerprints. Down deep inside of us there exists that common, innate, natural gift for discerning what is good and what is not, However we choose to filter it with our personal beliefs, common sense, or mother wit, is deep within us.

 

This blog attempts to offer insights into instances in which an abundance or great lack of mother wit occurs in my everyday life in sunny Sarasota, FL.

Squirrels and Snakes and Possums, oh my!

Welcome to the sunny South, Dee! You're not in Michigan anymore...

Living in central Florida has required some adjustments, most of them good and pleasant. It has been pleasant to enjoy a warm winter, and to be able to walk, sit outside on the lanai anytime of day or night, and go to the beach and enjoy the sun and the Gulf. Although it felt very strange, it was pleasant to experience my first warm weather Christmas since my childhood in Louisiana.

What has not been so pleasant is experiencing the various critters that are indigenous to this part of the country. Squirrels I can adjust to, although the pine-tree covered terrain of my Michigan home meant that we didn't see many of them. More sightings of deer than squirrels.

But I can count on one hand the encounters I had in over 30 years with the small garden snake. Since I love gardening, I would be surprised but not fearful if I stumbled upon a little green snake while digging in the dirt. Once I learned that they were not poisonous, and relatively harmless, I called a truce on my snake killing spree and most often would let them scurry away.

My first encounter with a long black snake in Florida happened one morning while walking Honey and Buddy, my two cocker spaniels. The dogs froze in their tracks and the snake moved from right to left about 20 feet ahead of us in a grassy, treed area right outside my apartment door. I was horrified, and immediately told the property manager about this monster snake sighting. With a twinkle in his eye, he informed me that it was most like a racer or fruit snake, who would mean me (or the dogs) no harm. I would have been okay had he stopped there, but he went on to describe other types of snakes which were poisonous and from which I should flee. I decided that I wasn't going to take the time to look at a snake that closely, and that I would just flee whenever I saw any kind of snake. My second snake sighting created a bit less anxiety, and after awhile, I remained cautious but not afraid of walking up on a snake. After all, I'm a Louisiana woman, I grew up in bayou country, and I'm not afraid of no stinking snake.

But the night I walked up on a possum is a different story. Actually, I drove up on him as I returned one Wednesday night from small group. He was strolling in the middle of the road and then turned and walked up my sidewalk. I was too terrified to get out of my car. Finally, I got my courage up and raced for the front door, and of course I fumbled with the keys to get in. And of course, Honey and Buddy wanted to go out. So, armed with two dogs and a broom, out I went to the other side of the road so that the dogs could do their business. As I came back up the sidewalk, to my horror, I realized I had left the front door wide open! I thought, the possum is in my apartment!

I thought, the dogs will protect me and help me get him out. The dogs strolled in, drank water, and settled down for the night, while I stood in the middle of the living room, broom still in hand, waiting for the possum to come out of hiding. I turned on every light, looked in every nook and cranny, all the while berating the dogs for not sniffing him out. I slept poorly that night with lights ablaze.

The next morning, I marched into the property manager's office to tell him of my experience. I said, "I've gotten used to the squirrels and the geckos, I've made my peace about occasionally seeing a snake, but I cannot get used to seeing a possum!" With that same twinkle in his eye, he calmly informed me that we lived in a preserve where all kinds of wildlife dwelt, and that I would somehow have to get used to occasionally seeing members of the possum family.

Okay, so I'm getting over these creature sightings.

And, welcome to Florida, Dee!

Living My Life Like It's Golden

It's been a little over two months since I moved to Sarasota, Florida. After living and working in southeastern Michigan for 34 years, I wanted to return to my southern roots. You see, I grew up in the small town of Monroe, Louisiana. But having no relatives there, I was not drawn to Monroe as a retirement destination.
I was looking for the Gulf beaches, and a moderate to warm temperature year-round. After checking out many library books, and spending many hours online, I chose Sarasota.
And, moving out of my comfort zone, I made a relatively quick decision to move. I am a very slow and methodical person, who can make a long project when making a decision, so this was extremely unusual for me to act so quickly. Over 40 years of stuff belonging to my parents, my daughter and me had to be sorted, donated, trashed, or packed. A condo full of furniture was donated, sold, or shipped. And all this was done in 6 weeks.
Regrets? None. The downsizing was inevitable and necessary. I feel lighter, less weighed down by "stuff." Some "stuff" that I had held onto for decades, like hundreds of pairs of shoes, dozens of suits, many sets of china, kitchen gadgets, and hundreds (if not a thousand) books were put in a more appropriate perspective for the lifestyle to which I am aspiring in my golden years. Lightening my load has lifted a weight off my shoulders. I feel more freedom than I have felt in years.
I aspire that my golden years will be spent writing and traveling. And spending many a sunny day at Siesta Key, rated the #1 Beach in the USA.
Life is Golden...

Happy Independence Day

Every day is independence day for me. I am joyfully venturing into the wonderful world of full-time retirement, and I realize that the possibilities are endless in terms of what I can do with the rest of my life.
I feel like a kid in a candy store! I just need to focus on the move to warmer climes, and then focus on any God-directed assignments.
What a wonderful time of life!
Dee