Finding Stuff

Tackling some big stuff.  Making My Space into my Man Cave.  Clearing my closets.  Making my kitchen the place that gives me joy.  Progress with all three.  It's unfathomable that when I moved into my house it had no stuff other than the stove required by law.  And when I eventually have to vacate it at end of life, somebody will have to divest of what has accumulated.  They need a head start.  

My mind is one that automatically sorts things.  Professionally, I would look at all the X-Rays, then create a block of time for consults, then another block of time to dictate reports.  Conceptual boxes.  In my physical spaces, I have real boxes.  As I took stuff off the floor to make My Space functional, I took mostly medium-sized cartons and sorted.  Not always in the wisest way.  Stuff suitable for desk work, irrespective of whether I might ever use these things, tools, bolts, stuff belonging to my wife, stuff belonging to my son.  I did similar in the bedroom.  A box for things that are mine, another for my wife, another for grooming things, another for health.  Then subcategories, which I did in My Space this week, mostly in sandwich or snack bags with resealable tops.  I had forgotten having once done this in the bedroom until I entered a box and found a plastic bag with pocket knives, another with combs.  As I go through My Space, I find similar treasures.  Things for sewing belong in the very functional three tiered sewing box I keep in the bedroom.  I found lint brushes.  More combs.  Stuff suitable for storage in one of my three travel kits.  I dedicated a box for stamps and post cards.  Another for rocks harvested at a variety of vacation sites.  More unused loose leafs than will fit into boxes.  And I have ample clear plastic bags, some large that once contained comforters or curtains, others smaller but still with snaps or zippers.  And cloth bags of all types, some of felt that housed jewelry, some canvas totes in a variety of sizes.  Harvested three more unused marble notebooks, probably costing 50 cents each at back to school sales, and packets of loose-leaf paper still in their plastic wrappers.

I had the wisdom to start with the closets, a few years ago for My Space, this past month for the bedroom.  So as I place things in boxes or clear plastic bags, all labelled, they can be assigned a rational place.  Some stuff belongs in a different room.  I think the basement is the best repository, at least for tools and hardware.

As I do this sorting, I set a timer, typically an hour, but rarely last more than half that at a single session. My ability to sort seems saturable.  And floor space is at a premium, despite the intent of maximizing it.  But slow and steady eventually transforms from progress to completion.