Ski bum, Parts III, IV, & V

2/28/10 Downhill skis, poles, & boots, returned to Katie; Cross-country boots, returned to Mom; Three pairs of useless cross-country boots, trashed

I closed out February with a triple downsize and, more importantly, had a great day because of downsizing. Here's how:

Earlier in the week, we talked with my parents and sister about driving over to visit them this weekend, since they are always chomping at the bit to see Chase. However, the double-whammy of infant-induced exhaustion and nonstop rainy/snowy weather prevented a Saturday trip and nearly scared us off a drive over there today.

However, yesterday's ski give-away made me eager to return Katie's skis to her, which we borrowed seven years ago for Joanna to use. (Katie hasn't been much of a skier recently, which I hope is not due to the fact that we've had her skis for over half a decade.) In the process of organizing her stuff, I discovered that I also had some of Mom's cross-country ski boots.

Side note: I also found three completely worthless pairs of cross-country boots, which I trashed. Three months ago I would have considered that today's downsize and intentionally left the others for future days, but I'm all about unloading stuff rapidly now. Yee-haw!

Right or wrong, I have to admit that without the downsize of those ski items in the back of my mind, I don't think I would have motivated to drive to Winthrop today. But the silly ski-delivery mission tipped my hand, and we headed over.

And, what a great little trip we had. We got caught up on the latest news, shared time with family, had a delicious lunch, and even went for a refreshing walk (which Chase slept through, but the fresh air did him good, nonetheless). Oh, and we took pictures; lots of pictures.

I shouldn't have needed the downsizing push to get us over to Winthrop, but without it we probably wouldn't have spent the afternoon with family, and that would have been a loss.

With our move to Denver looming ever closer, these impromptu family gatherings are certainly numbered. I thank the Downsizing Challenge for helping today's to happen.

Ski bum, Part II

Editor's Note: I'm considering this earlier ski downsize, "Ski bum, Part I"

2/27/10 Two pairs of cross-country skis, two pairs of ski boots, and one set of poles, given away on craigslist

With the Vancouver Winter Olympics drawing to a close and New England in the middle of a bizarre multi-day rain/sleet/snow storm, I figured it was time for some winter sport downsizing.

Several years ago, after complaining to a colleague about my old cross country skate-skis, which I've had since high school, I was given two more pair of equally-old skate skis. And, predictably, I not only accepted the gift, but thought of it as a huge stroke of luck. In the intervening years, I believe I have used these two pairs of skis a grand total of twice, possibly three times. The other thousand days or so they have been stashed in the rafters of my shed.

Time to say goodbye.

Without a planned downsize for today, I decided to try my latest trick, which is to put up something on craigslist with a deadline. This, Dear Readers, is advice to heed. I posted the skis this morning with the note that priority would be given to anyone who could pick them up by today or tomorrow. Within a few hours, I had several people all willing to come ASAP. Ask any reporter: deadlines are motivational.

The skis, appropriately yet coincidentally, went to a family from my school district who plan to use them for some quality mother/daughter time. Ah, clearly a better use than clogging up my shed!

The downsizing lesson is to be careful what we acquire in the first place. I had no need for the skis, nor did I really want them, but when presented with an opportunity to get something for FREE, our minds tend to short circuit a bit.

I need to rewire mine so I don't end up with such clutter in the first place.

Boxed in

2/26/10 Giant pile of boxes, recycled

Here's a little irony:

I began eBay-ing as one way to downsize. In order to mail off my eBay sales, I started to collect empty boxes.

And boxes.

And boxes.

Suddenly, a corner of my troublesome basement has become my own personal Tower of Babel, made entirely of empty boxes. Which -- second irony alert -- toppled as I took the picture!

In short: my downsizing was an excuse to hoard. See a problem?

I can't explain how hard it was for me to break down those boxes this evening. My blood coursed with fear: what if I make an eBay sale tomorrow -- even though I don't have anything for sale on eBay -- and I don't have the perfect box? Calamity shall ensue.

Suddenly I'm desperately hoping NOT to sell anything on eBay. Does this really count as downsizing progress?

I'd show you...but then I'd have to kill you.

2/25/10 Binder full of highly classified documents, returned

Some teachers see a snow day as a day of rest and relaxation. Me? I turn into an absolute Project Machine whenever we have an unexpected day off. A strange snow/ice/rain storm is currently pelting us with every type of precipitation known to man, and school, as a result, was cancelled today.

In addition to spending a bit of quality time with my beloved wife and doing some fatherly care-taking as Joanna ran out for groceries, I also tackled several items on my house to-do list. Besides molding installation and sink repairs, I also began to get my taxes in order.

In the process, Joanna discovered a binder of information that her father had sent her. Joanna does some part-time consulting work for Meyrick -- note to IRS, this was all accurately documented by me today -- and some of the items he sent to her were clearly "for her eyes only." I wasn't privy to the conversation, but she came to understand that if the wrong people saw these papers, Jason Bourne would be likely to show up at our front door. (Or, more likely, come down the chimney.)

To prove that I'm not the only one who tends to hold onto things around here, let me explain that the binder was for work done in 2004 and hadn't been relevant in over five years. Realizing that we had managed to survive this long, we decided not to press our luck and send the precious documents back to Connecticut. We're breathing a bit easier now.

Whew, that downsizing can be a lifesaver.

The Story of Stuff

2/24/10 Decorative wall clock, given away on craigslist

Here's my Story of Stuff:

My grandmother (bless her heart) gives us a wall clock we don't need. We hang wall clock on the wall for several years, where it becomes functionally invisible. We eventually take clock down to make room for a far-more interesting piece of original art (bless your heart, Fred). Clock moves into basement. Filled with guilt, I take picture of clock and try to sell it on craigslist. A few months later, I drop price and try to sell it again. And again. Finally, I offer it up for free. Today, a woman comes by the house and takes it (bless her heart).

Here's Annie Leonard's Story of Stuff:

The Story of Stuff

Take 20 minutes and watch her original video. It's fabulous not only for its uncompromising message, but also its animation.

And, beware the mortal enemy of Downsizing: The Golden Arrow of Consumption!

Hats off to this man

2/23/10 Partially used box of disposable gloves, given away

As I mentioned before, one of the earliest -- and most useful -- pieces of advice I got when I entered education was to make friends with the custodians and secretaries.

Having already given a downsize to one of our secretaries, I realized I better make a similar gesture towards our head custodian, lest I discover that I've been permanently locked out of the staff restroom.

Fortunately, as I hope the photo above illustrates, Terry is quite easily satisfied. Truth is, he was more excited by the excuse to put on one of his crazy hats than by the opened box of gloves I gave him.

Indeed, Terry is certainly the most photographed person at our school, owing to his habit of dressing up in outlandish costumes for every holiday. Since he also serves as the crossing guard in front of the school, the whole community has glimpses of the occasional giant Christmas Elf, Leprechaun, Cat-In-The-Hat, Easter Bunny, and the like.

Terry, in addition to being the jack-of-all-trades who single-handedly keeps our building running, is a tremendously fun guy and good sport, with enough child in him to fit right into an elementary school environment.

Your visions of how the students react to all of this are correct.

Downsizing is most fun when you can give away things that really bring joy to the special people in your life. Does this box of gloves count? Well, I know Terry accepted it -- as he accepts all of us -- with open arms and a friendly heart.

I only wish I had a Bozo outfit to downsize to him. That would really make him smile.

I give, he gets

2/22/10 "The Music of Disney" audio tape collection, given away

The Great Joanna/Amanda Childhood Purge continued today as I gave away a set of audio cassettes that featured the music of Disney.

I gave them to Lori Plummer, one of my colleagues with whom I have worked the closest over the last seven years. Lori plays a lot of music for her kindergarten students, so I know the Disney tapes will come out of their long hibernation to good effect.

Lori was the beneficiary of a previous downsize, but the real winner here is Chase, who seems to get another gift from her every week. Today, no sooner had I handed her the Disney tapes, she handed me yet another board book for our little Cajun Critter. She's already given him a number of outfits, several books, and a great variety of receiving blankets, sewn by her mother.

Thus, while my own efforts to reduce my worldly possessions are moving along quite well, my son is increasing his own collection at an even greater rate.

I'm not sure whether I should consider that a problem. Should the acquisition of baby items have any impact on the Downsizing Challenge? What are my responsibilities vis-á-vis his new stuff?

Thoughts? Opinions? Admonitions? I'm all ears.

Kid's play

2/21/10 Box of dollhouse dolls and furniture & bag of Ginny Dolls and accessories, given away on craigslist; Children's VHS tapes, donated to Casco Public Library

Triple downsize today, as the items culled by Joanna and Amanda continue to fly out of here.

We had yet another dilemma as we discussed how to downsize some of their childhood dolls. We began with the challenge of parting with them in the first place. I supposed there's some parallel with my own reluctance to get rid of my childhood Star Wars action figures, but they came to terms with saying, "Good-bye" much more quickly than I did (or will, since most of my treasures remain boxed up in the basement).

Then, since the dolls were priceless childhood treasures, we had visions of making millions on eBay. You know, Dear Readers, how that usually turns out. (Check here, here, or here.) A quick eBay search told us that we'd be lucky to fetch more than a few dollars for the Ginny Dolls and the box full of dollhouse furniture, while tremendously cool, would be even tougher to sell.

I made the argument that we should just give the dolls and dollhouse furniture away on craigslist. I saw two potential outcomes: 1) A true collector would snatch them up, recognizing their true value and turn around and make millions on them, or 2) Some parent/grandparent would get them as a toy for a deserving little girl. Either way, I figured, we're increasing the amount of joy in the world, which is about all the reward one should ask from a good downsize.

Scenario #2 happened, and a delightful woman named Norma came by this morning to get the dolls and dollhouse furniture for her granddaughters to use when they visit. (She saw my separate postings on craigslist and requested both.) She even mentioned that now she'll be motivated to get them a dollhouse. See? The world is a more joyful place and we are all the richer for it.

I also had to go to the Casco Library today for our monthly trustee meeting. I used the trip to drop off some of Joanna and Amanda's childhood Disney movies.

Serving as a trustee has been one of the joys of living in Casco. However, at this meeting I announced the fact that Joanna, Chase, and I will be moving to Denver this summer -- a fact widely discussed in my life right now, but not mentioned before on the blog. Did I catch any of you off guard?

It's hard to break from such great institutions as our local library, and I know my occasional donations do not make full amends. Still, just as downsize choices are often difficult, so are the larger life decisions we occasionally must make. I say let's embrace those difficult choices, rather than shrink from them.

With our move looming in the future, the need to speed up the downsizing is becoming more obvious. Three downsizes in one day? That may have to become par for the course...

Editor's Note, 3/1/10: I received this fantastic email from Norma: Thank you again for the Ginny Dolls. I washed the clothes, ironed them and did a little mending. The girls haven't seen them yet, but I'm excited and know they'll love them. And today I bought a doll house, so I'm setting up your furniture, which is so nice. I'm probably more excited than the girls will be, but they'll be staying over next week and I can't wait.

Broken beyond repair

2/20/10 Three broken keepsakes, trashed

I always think I can fix it.

I'm just not sure how...

... or when.

I've been juggling these three broken items on my workbench in the basement, moving them back and forth as I puttered on other projects. Every time I touched one of them, of course, I thought to myself, "I need to glue that back together."

I tried to glue the wooden whale -- a gift to Joanna from her Dad -- and the result was highly unsatisfactory. The shattered ballerina and broken suncatcher held equal promise.

So, with Joanna's reluctant blessing, they all got tossed out tonight.

I thought at first that the lesson was not to try to salvage something once it's broken. Then, I realized the real lesson:

Don't break the dang stuff to begin with.

Share a final moment

2/19/10 Childhood treasures, trashed & recycled; winter clothes, donated to the Salvation Army

Amanda visited us for two days and, at my urging, she and Joanna dove into two large storage bins mysteriously labeled "Personal Kid Stuff" and "Kid Stuff." I pulled them down from high up on a shelf in that darn basement. (One of the bins is actually visible in the upper right corner of the photo from this older post about my evil basement.)

Given the discussion that's popped up around my last few post regarding the challenge of downsizing sentimental items, this was a bold undertaking for my wife and sister-in-law. Items from their childhood, which connect them to their youth, each other, and, most importantly, their mother. Nonetheless, they tackled those bins with determination and set aside more than two-thirds of the contents for downsizing.

Let's take a moment to appreciate the strength that they exhibited today. How many of us can bear to let go of markers of our childhood, of our past? Before you answer, go look in your closets and your attic -- you've got some boxes labeled "Memories," I know it.

My favorite moment was when Joanna hesitated over a small craft piece she had made when she was three.

"Come over here," Amanda said, "Let's share a final moment with it."

Ah, listen to the wisdom in that. Rather than boxing it back up and forgetting it for another ten years, let's celebrate it and let it go.

And let it go, they did.

And what they couldn't throw out or recycle, we set aside for future downsizes for the library, school, and craigslist. Planning ahead.

On a side note, Amanda's search for new winter gloves gave us an opportunity to hand off a number of cold-weather items to her, and motivated us to take a bag-full of other such clothes immediately down to the local Salvation Army. (Chase needed an outing, anyway.)

Above all, another tiny chink has been taken out of that basement's armor. We shall defeat it.

Lame?

2/18/10 Bunch of painting supplies, trashed

My sister in law, Amanda, has arrived for a visit, and she informed me that yesterday's downsize was lame. She pointed out the fact that two other candles, which I didn't downsize, are clearly visible in the picture, and any downsize involving candles is rather weak.

I argue that the message of yesterday's downsize is very important: it's easier to get rid of those sentimental trinkets that clutter our lives than we often assume.

But, Amanda is onto something, and I assure you all, Dear Readers, that the stakes are going to get much higher. Joanna and I went through our house room-by-room yesterday and made a rather shocking list of potential furniture downsizes. Anyone want to completely refurnish their home? Stay tuned.

As for today, I finished a big improvement job on our home, as the basement is now completely re-painted. I used the accomplishment to toss out a bunch of used brushes, rollers, and stirrers that I generally hold onto. Again, not a huge downsize, but certainly something that I would NOT have trashed today if not for the challenge. I used to save all this stuff and now getting rid of it is feeling (sort-of) natural.

So the downsizes may not always be all that big, but the changes in me just might be.

Can't hold a candle to it

2/17/10 Candle, trashed & recycled

Joanna asked me to make room in the freezer, and I discovered, tucked way in the back corner, a candle holder that my mom made years ago by decorating a glass jar with femo.

I'm not sure if the rest of you keep candles in the freezer, but it's Joanna's main storage place for them. I was a few years into the marriage before I ventured to ask why we had them in there. Turns out that freezing burnt-down candles is the easiest way to get them out of their holders. Oh, now I understand...

(I didn't question the fact that we never seem to get to the stage of taking them out of the freezer.)

Anyway, I took this particular candle out of our freezer, which remains absolutely packed with food given to us to make the early weeks of parenthood a bit easier.

I had a pang of guilt as I instantly decided this was today's downsize. It was a clear choice, but getting rid of something my mother made for me is never easy. (Just ask Joanna.) But, I didn't hesitate as I headed to the trash.

And then, the Downsize Gods intervened to make me feel better.

As I shook the candle out of the holder, a piece of the femo fell off. As I picked at the next piece, it dropped off, too. Within moments, the entire thing deconstructed in my hands. Note to Mom: femo doesn't withstand long exposure to freezing temperature.

So, I tossed the candle and femo chips into the trash and the glass jar into the recycle bin, guilt-free.

I have seen the (candle) light: the hardest downsize choices are usually the right ones. Be ruthless in your downsizing, Dear Readers. It will all work out in the end.

Lives, insured

2/16/10 A whole bunch of life insurance paperwork, recycled

Look at that kid. Don't you think his folks should have life insurance?

Joanna and I have been talking about getting life insurance for years, ever since we married. It's the responsible thing to do, we know that, and it should have happened long ago.

Well, it's finally happening, and I credit two powerful forces: my son Chase and Day 200 of the Downsizing Challenge.

I wanted to do something significant to mark the double-century mark of the challenge, and I realized that finally getting the ball rolling on life insurance was the way to do it. I've been shuffling life insurance paperwork for years, always saying to myself, "I'm going to get to that this weekend." And, I never did.

But, holding a little baby -- or, as I'm calling him today, The Eleven Pound Wonder -- in my hands certainly helps turn intention into action. And the 200th Day of the challenge only ensured that it would happen today rather than actually waiting for the weekend.

An hour and seventeen minutes on the phone later, and we have the process started. And, as they say, a great weight was lifted.

Plus, a whole folder of now-irrelevant paper has now been tossed into our recycling bin.

This kind of downsizing may be small on the physical scale but is absolutely huge on the psychological scale. Sometimes a few undealt-with papers can cause as much clutter in our lives as a half-ton of paving stones, a hundred random pieces of junk, or even a collapsed garage.

I'm often guilty of letting important stuff slide as I occupy myself with trivialities (Hello, internet!). Fortunately, those eleven pounds of Dyer-Payne DNA are helping me to get my priorities back in line.

Two hundred days down, one sixty-five left to go. Let's hope I make it out alive.

Should've bought it, when I saw it...

2/15/10 Coffee table, given away on craigslist

Today, we again saw the Power of Free.

I offered a coffee table on Craigslist.com at 9:14 AM. I had a response by 9:37 AM. Joel drove off with the table at 11:23 AM.

Joanna had been after me to downsize the table for a while, since it didn't exactly qualify as fine furniture. I'd bought it at Marden's in Lewiston, Maine, when I was packing up stuff to furnish my New York apartment.

If you're not familiar with Marden's, here's how I think of it: Imagine a truck, packed with dining room furniture (or women's clothes, or refurbished vacuum cleaners), is heading to some Mom & Pop store to restock their inventory. En route, the driver gets word that the store has gone out of business and he needs to unload the cargo, fast. The good folks at Marden's swoop in and buy it up for pennies on the dollar, toss it into their cavernous store, and pass the savings onto the rest of us.

Marden's jingle is "Should've bought it, when I saw it, at Marden's!"

Cheap crap that we're encouraged to buy on impulse. It's the anti-downsize store! I'm doing my best to never go in again.

When I bought it in 1999, the coffee table cost five, maybe ten dollars. That works out to less than a buck per year of use, so I gave the table away today with no regrets.

Besides, regardless of price, the coffee table still has value, it was just time for it to move onto another owner. For free.

With those prices, I can even compete with Marden's.

Six (and a half) lessons learned

2/14/10 Plastic bin, given away; three phones and a mile of telephone wire, trashed

I sincerely hope, Dear Readers, that many of you are undertaking radical downsizing yourselves. To help you in your journey, here are a few lessons learned today.

1) One man's trash is anther man's treasure. We have a responsibility to try for Reuse over Recycle. It's more work to find a new owner for something than just to throw it away, but it's the better way to go. Whatever it is, someone might want it.

2) Lean on your friends and family to take stuff off your hands. As we enjoyed our weekend with Meyrick and Donna, Donna asked where I got the plastic bin that I scoop the used cat litter into. The bin is actually one of the plastic containers that the litter we used to buy came in. I downsized all of my unused bins months ago and wrote, I thought, one of my more inspired blogs.

3) Organization can lead to hoarding (and that's bad). Underneath my workbench, stacked neatly among other neatly labeled boxes, was a neat cat litter bin with the word "Phones" printed neatly on the side. Inside were neatly packed phones and neatly bundled phone cords. It was all done so neatly, it looked like it should stay there forever.

4) One downsize often leads to other downsizes (and that's good). So, here was a perfectly good cat litter bin I could give to Donna, but I now needed to deal with what was inside it.

5) Sometimes you've just got to throw stuff out. At least one of those phones was broken, which I knew when I stored it. The others were so old, I'm reasonably confident nobody would want them. So, they got tossed. (Except one that belonged to my parents that they may want back; I need to check. Thus, lesson 5B) Rarely are downsizes cut and dry.)

6) Downsizing feels good. The bin went to Connecticut with Donna, the phones and cords went to the dump, and now I have another empty space in that confounded basement.

With those tips in mind, you are hereby challenged to downsize something of your own today. Let me know what it is, and any lessons you learned that I may pass along to my other Dear Readers. Can't wait to hear from you...

Not ready for prime time

2/13/10 Ridiculously old can of primer paint, consumed

Does primer go bad? I sure hope not.

This is actually a case where my hoarding totally paid off. This mostly-empty can of primer was left behind, like so many other treasures, by the beloved Andrew Zipkin when he sold the house to us. It has sat in a box in the corner of the basement all of these years with no project to devote itself to. Until now.

I actually started the thoroughly unfun project of repainting our entire basement/entry before Christmas, but progress has ground to a halt with the arrival of a baby.

With Joanna's family here for the weekend, however, I was freed up to return to the job, and did so with all the gusto I could muster. I had purchased fancy paint that claimed "no primer needed," but like so much offered up by corporate America, this product fell short of the marketing campaign.

Most of the problem can be attributed to the fact that I'm trying to cover the dark industrial gray trim (probably a color choice of the aforementioned Mr. Zipkin), with some paint that is just far enough away from white to have a fancy name like "Snowbound Starlight." The name also allows the paint to be sold at prices that do, indeed, make me look to the heavens.

It became clear on my first attempt that, just as the label said, primer is not needed. As long as I didn't mind doing at least four coats with the fancy paint.

That stuff is expensive, so forget that.

Thus, the decade-old primer was called into action, and, as far as I can tell, it has done its job.

Of course, with Meyrick and Donna leaving tomorrow, it may be months before I have time to finish painting and actually find out for myself.

Sense of deja vu; sense of deja vu

2/12/10 Three pairs of old cross country skis, given away

Happy Birthday, Jason!

How's this for a strange coincidence?

Yesterday, a good friend of mine, named Jason M., celebrated this birthday. He's one of the few men I've ever worked with in primary education, a field dominated by women. He's a dedicated and analytical teacher, a fine outdoorsman, and the father of an adoring daughter.

Today, a good friend of mine, named Jason M., celebrated this birthday. He's one of the few men I've ever worked with in primary education, a field dominated by women. He's a dedicated and analytical teacher, a fine outdoorsman, and the father of an adoring daughter.

Yep, two different guys who share much in common beyond the same name and who were born 24 hours apart. Plus, they're both great guys.

Yesterday, as you may have read, to celebrate Jason Martin's birthday I sent him a funny book.

Today, to mark Jason Manjourides' birthday, I handed off three pairs of cross country skis. The skis aren't actually for Jason, but for his friend, who just opened a restaurant. I have not yet had the chance to visit The Foothills Grille in Bethel, Maine, but Jason assures me that the food is excellent. The owner is a friend of his, and he's interested in the skis as a possible decoration.

I, of course, am hopeful that this might be my first downsize that ends up on the wall of a local business. That would be cool.

In fact, once the skis are properly displayed, I should offer to take Jason and Jason there for a birthday dinner.

What to Expect When You're Downsizing

2/11/10 Copy of What to Expect When You're Expected, given away

Happy Birthday, Jason!

This is a lethal combination:

1) I'm trying to get rid of stuff.

2) One of my best friends is having a birthday.

3) He's also about to have a baby.

Talk about the perfect storm of downsizing! Knowing Jason's particular sense of humor, I mailed off to him the absolutely hysterical What to Expect When You're Expected. Be sure you read that title carefully, so as not to confuse it with the book it's parodying, the classic (and classically boring) What to Expect When You're Expecting. There's a slight difference in tone, best explained by watching this trailer.

Pregnancy is a time full of anxiety and concern, even for the guy. There are a million things to worry about and another million to learn. Fortunately, any time I was feeling overwhelmed I'd read a few more pages of this book, which is created by the same folks who gave us America: The Book and I Am America, and So Can You! If you're a Daily Show or Stephen Colbert fan and haven't read these books, RUN out and get them right now. If you're not a Daily Show or Stephen Colbert fan, I can honestly say I don't understand you.

I own my own copy of America: The Book (purchased at the library for $1) and won't be downsizing it anytime soon, but I'm willing to let go of What to Expect When You're Expected, if only because I know Jason and Jenny can use the laughs at this point in their pregnancy.

Besides, after one pregnancy, I'm not so sure I want to go back to that experience anytime soon. Right, Joanna?

Baby shower (and tub)

2/10/10 Basket full of baby items, given away

How's this for quick turn around: My son is less than four weeks old and I'm already downsizing baby items. Better hide your favorite stuff, kid, cause I'm coming to get it.

One of Joanna's colleagues, in addition to being a teacher, is also a plumber. She came over a few years ago when I got seriously over my head in the do-it-yourself bathroom remodel project, rescuing me in my failed attempt to install a new bathtub. She sacrificed her entire Saturday giving us back the ability to bathe and shower in our own home.

Anyone who visits our house for the first time quickly hears how I redid both bathrooms "on my own." The story of Michelle's role in the tub installation gets buried in my retelling. Sorry, Michelle.

But, as a small token of thanks as well as a well-wish to someone else who is about to become a parent for the first time, Joanna drove a basket of stuff over to Michelle's today. She's due later in the spring, giving her plenty of time to read the handy birth books and practice with those excess diapers we downsized to her.

We even threw in an extra jar of soothing bath soak, so Michelle can relax in her tub both before and after the baby arrives.

Of course, she's always welcome to use our tub, too, since without her we'd still be doing sponge baths in front of the kitchen sink. That's fine for babies, but no good for us new parents.

In a meeting

2/9/10 Two children's books (Math Curse & An American Plague), given away

My paternity leave came to an end today and I returned to work. I'm incredibly thankful that I was able to take three weeks off to be at home with Joanna as we began to discover how to be parents.

This morning I abandoned my diaper-changing duty to return to the traditional role of bread winner (although Joanna makes more than I do).

What a way to return to school: I spent the day in -- this is absolutely true -- seven and a half hours of meetings.

I would simply like a show of hands, Dear Readers, from those of you who work in the business world. How many of you have ever spent 7 1/2 hours in meetings in one day? I'm not counting lunch, I'm not counting the downtime between them, I'm only talking about the actual clocked meeting time.

I'm an educator. I thought we were supposed to teach kids, not talk amongst ourselves.

One downsizing benefit of meeting with teachers is that it's really easy to give stuff away. I'm working on a theory that teaching has a higher percentage of hoarders than any other profession. I guess working in an environment that is low-pay, non-profit, and material-intensive leads to that kind of behavior.

Whatever it is, it helps anyone who's trying to downsize. (As, by the way, you all should be doing.)

I walked into my final meeting of the day, held up two books and said, "Who wants 'em?" They were gone in thirty seconds. Thank you Diane and Jason!

See, even though I hardly saw a child all day, I can at least say the meetings were productive.

Picture a land of plenty...

2/8/10 Two photographs (and, by extension, a film canister), recycled

Isn't it amazing that I lead a life of such plenty that I hold onto items that have little or no value and, indeed, I have no interest in.

Examples abound, but here's the latest one.

I've apparently owned a random roll of film, about which I couldn't care less, for about nine years. I say "apparently" because I really have little recollection of this roll of film. I have vague memories of seeing it in the back of a drawer from time to time, but it basically became invisible.

Think about that: I own things that I can ignore. How many of the world's people can say that? What percentage of our earth's population has so much stuff that they can afford to neither fully know what some of it is nor care about much of it. I find it in one sense odd and, at another extreme, rather obscene.

At any rate, I could well have let that roll of film bounce around in my desk drawer for many more years and would undoubtedly have packed it up and moved it to our next house, just as I moved it here when I came from New York.

Thankfully, the Downsize Challenge continues to open my eyes, and I realized that it was time to deal with that roll. Last week I took it to the local Rite Aid to be developed. It's been so long since I dropped off film at a drug store that I needed to ask the lady for help in filling out the envelope.

Honestly, as the time approached to pick up the film, I started to have a little anxiety about what I was going to find. I could hardly remember owning a 35mm camera, and I certainly couldn't put my finger on what I might have photographed with it. Especially given that I didn't have it developed at the time. Very strange.

I picked it up with Joanna and Chase in the car and, to be frank, was glad that the little guy prevented Joanna from coming into the store with me. At least I'd get a look at the photos on my own first, with the opportunity to ditch anything incriminating before she saw them.

Hey, I was once a wild and crazy guy.

The result turned out to be both more strange and more mundane than anything I could have imagined.

Only two shots. One, dark and grainy (clearly the flash didn't go off) of me putting on a bike helmet in the hallway of Joanna's Harlem apartment. The other, of Joanna in front of a bridge somewhere in Brooklyn. We think it's Brooklyn, although that's not the Brooklyn Bridge.

The pictures are clearly from a Five Borough New York City bike tour we did sometime around the summer of 2001.

Questions abound. Why did we only take these two pictures? Why take 35mm pictures at all, since I had my digital camera by then? Why didn't I develop the film when I took it out of the camera? What in the heck ever happened to the camera?

From a downsizing perspective, the most significant question is also the easiest to answer.

Should I have so much stuff that some of it becomes invisible filler, just occupying air in a symbolic celebration of excess?

The answer, of course, is no. Good riddance.

Running on empty

2/7/10 Running shoes, trashed

How NOT to run a road race:

1) Do virtually no running for about a year.

2) Do little to no other fitness activity for the same year.

3) Carbo-load. For a month. On casseroles made by your mother and sister.

4) Have a baby.

5) Get no more than four consecutive hours of sleep for three straight weeks.

6) Choose a 10-mile race, on Super Bowl Sunday, in twenty-degree weather.

7) Run your worst-time ever (1:27:07); finish with bloody foot.

8) Use it as an excuse to throw away your oldest running shoes.

9) Consider it a success.

Geaux Saints!

2/6/10 Three copies of Sports Illustrated, mailed to Tom Brady, Tedy Bruschi, and Randy Moss for (hopefully!) autographs

On the eve of the Super Bowl, I decided to do a football-themed downsize by mailing off three issues of Sports Illustrated that boast cover photos of great Patriots. The Pats may have had a disappointing exit from the playoffs this year, but they still get the nod from this fan.

As pigskin season ends, I'm hoping that the Messrs. Brady, Bruschi, and Moss are a bit more responsive than their counterparts in baseball, Pedro Martinez, Josh Becket, Dice-K, and Jonathan Papelbon, none of whom have returned the magazines I mailed to them for autographs. Still haven't decided if I feel slighted.

What I DON'T feel slighted about is this year's Super Bowl match-up, the Colts vs. the Saints. As any good Patriot fan would, I'll be rooting against the Colts on principle alone, but I'm also very happy to jump on the NOLA bandwagon with the rest of the country and root for the city that truly deserves something great to happen.

Geaux Saints!

Editor's Note, 3/11/10: 1) The Saints DID win, proving that once in a while the good guys do prevail. Payton Manning's performance in the game also solidified Tom Brady's status as far-and-away the best quarterback of the last decade. (Big smile.) Speaking of Brady, that magazine with his picture on the cover came back today. Click here to find out if he signed it.

That sinking feeling

2/5/10 Bunch of stuff under sink, trashed, recycled, or consumed

Is there a plumber in the house?

Not here, but I'm doing the best I can. The past week has included some furnace and water issues, which have now led to dishwasher problems. Ugh.

Never one to hire someone to do a job right when I can take five times longer doing it poorly myself, I'm attempting to correct all issues. Wish me luck.

All do-it-yourself projects, however, are also an opportunity for downsizing. This one led me beneath the kitchen sink, where few people dare to venture. An hour later and I had downsized a dozen of the items under there, cutting the clutter nearly in half.

Hey, I may not fix the dishwasher, but that sink area is lookin' good.

PEZ, part two

2/4/10 Nine Star Wars PEZ dispensers, sold on eBay for $2.35

Those of you, Dear Readers, who were paying close attention to the title of this earlier post have been expecting more PEZ. There's always more PEZ.

However, rather than wax poetic on the myriad joys of bad candy that comes in freaky plastic heads, I will simply take this opportunity to again point out Problem Number One with eBay.

Shipping costs.

Earlier this week I sold seven brand new PEZ dispensers (still in their original packaging!) for $0.99. Then, I sold nine used PEZ dispensers for $2.35. Granted, nine is more than seven, but shouldn't the fact that the first set was unopened have made them more valuable?

Well, in fact it did.

The new PEZ went for a total of $9.08, while the used PEZ sold for a total of $5.45. But, the new stuff cost so much to mail that I basically gave it away for free. Who got all the money? The United States Postal Service. (I like to pretend that at least I'm helping with the whole federal budget deficit thing.)

The higher shipping costs for the still-in-packaging items ate up 90% of my profits. Argh!

Wanna make some money?

I'm going to propose a deal right now, Dear Readers, with whichever one of you can figure out how to eliminate my eBay shipping costs. I will SPLIT 50/50 every cent I make on eBay from tomorrow until the end of the Downsize Challenge, with the first person who figures out how to get stuff to people without it costing me anything.

Been waiting for your ship to come in? It's tied to the dock, Dear Readers. You ready to take the helm?

Put on your entrepreneurial hats. We've got a problem that needs solving and money that needs making. The suggestion box is open.

In memory of Maggie

2/3/10 Two claim checks, recycled

Joanna's mother passed away eight years ago today, on February 3, 2002.

It is one of the great fortunes of my life that I was able to get to know her before her battle with cancer ended. Although Joanna and I weren't yet married, I like to think she knew we were headed down that road.

Joanna likes to say that people live on through the good works they do and the people they influence.

Well, Maggie gave us Joanna and her sister Amanda and, by extension, little Chase. That's about as big an impact that anyone can have on my life, so I'd say Maggie is still with us, in a very big way.

We also know that people live on through the possessions they leave behind. Our house has many special reminders of Maggie, from furniture and crystal to paintings and movies. (She had impeccable taste in films. Rest assured, our VHS copies of Breakfast at Tiffany's, Psycho, and Giant will NOT be getting downsized.)

A few years ago, we also discovered two claim tickets among her belongings. One was for Marco Jewelers and the other for Mr. C's Fix-Up Shop, two Stamford, CT, establishments where Joanna says Maggie was loved as a customer.

I had this romantic notion that we might be able to call up with the claim check number and discover that some other physical reminder of Maggie had been sitting in the back room of a shop for the last eight years. A necklace she took in for cleaning or a lamp that needed to be re-wired.

I worked up the courage to call both businesses this week, and although the proprietors where tremendously understanding and helpful, there were no secret items to be discovered. Most likely, Maggie picked up whatever she had dropped off long ago, and just never threw out the claim check. These claim checks weren't tickets to long-lost items, they were just little slips of papers that had once passed through Maggie's hands.

I was momentarily disappointed, since I thought it would be pretty special to uncover another connection to Maggie, like a message sent to us years after her passing.

And then I realized that she's already given us all we could ask for: Joanna, Amanda, and Chase. What stronger message could the world receive than the gifts these three bring to us daily?

Thank you, Maggie, for living on so beautifully.

The strange price of FREE

2/2/10 Food steamer & foreign voltage converters, given away on craigslist

Here's the biggest lesson I've learned about craigslist.com:

If you offer something for FREE, people will want it.

It doesn't matter what it is, if it's free, they'll be knocking down your door. Offer the same thing for $1 and the sound of silence will deafen you, but throw it up for free, and the clamor will shatter the windows.

The appeal of "free" is really a fascinating phenomenon (and one that Chris Anderson explores quite well in his aptly-titled book, Free. Go here if you want to download the audio book for -- you guessed it -- FREE!).

Here's an example of the power of free:

A few months ago, I put our virtually brand new food steamer on craigslist for $5. A paltry price, considering that the exact same product is selling on Amazon.com at this very moment for $34.99. After a few weeks, I hadn't had a single inquiry.

Guess nobody on craigslist could use a steamer, right? WRONG! There's just nobody on craigslist who wants to PAY (even a token amount) for a steamer.

I put it up on the site again last night, this time offering it for free. Brace yourself. Within eighteen hours I had over twenty different people falling over themselves to get it.

And here's a tidbit that makes it even more interesting: I put up a separate post offering some random voltage converters that you can use to plug items into foreign electrical sockets. A completely random and unrelated item, no?

And yet, I had no fewer than four people who decided they desperately needed BOTH of these items, ASAP.

One more twist: One of the first people to reply and the guy I gave them to (hey, if I can give them both away in one shot, I'm going to make that deal) turned out to be someone that I already downsized to. It was Richard, a guy who also took two random things off my hands back in November. It think I need to start direct-marketing to the guy. Rather than posting on craigslist, I'm just going to email my offers right to him.

Of course, if Richard doesn't want what I'm trying to get rid of, I know there are plenty of others who do. As long as I offer it for free.

PEZ, part one

2/1/10 Seven unopened Star Wars PEZ dispensers, sold on eBay for 99 cents

The downside of having a random interest, such as Star Wars, is that whenever somebody wants to get you a gift, they default to gifts connected to that interest.

So, just because I love Star Wars, people suddenly think that I have an interest in anything and everything Star Wars related. Like PEZ dispensers.

Which, frankly, I don't.

Don't get me wrong, I actually thought it was pretty cool when I was given the first few, but then they started to build up. I didn't really have a way to display them (and I certainly knew enough not to suggest to Joanna that we should display them) and eventually I found myself in possession of several boxes of Star Wars PEZ, some still in their original packaging, since I'm not much of a fan of the candy, either.

I actually sold a shoebox full of them at a yard sale before the Downsize Challenge began, but I came across another box of them in the basement a few weeks ago. Half of those were unopened, so I put those seven together as a package deal, figuring the original packaging would fetch a high price.

Not exactly.

Regardless, they are headed to California, hopefully to someone who either has a cool way to display them or, at the very least, is into five-year-old candy.