Paint chip on my shoulder

9/7/09 Really old paint, consumed (can trashed)

When we moved into our home in 2003, the previous owners left all sorts of goodies in the basement, shed, and even out in the woods. Thanks, Mr. Zipkin. One such present was a can of red paint that matched the trim around our deck. The rusty old thing has been sitting in the corner of my basement for six years (and probably a few more years before we got here).

That trim needed to be redone, and Labor Day seemed particularly appropriate for such work. Enthusiasm aside, I had serious doubts about what I would happen if I tried to open that can. When I did, the top basically crumbled apart, and the liquid inside looked like a gray sponge sitting in three inches of olive oil. Useless?

A minute of stirring worked magic. The paint was miraculously brought back to life and ready to run, so to speak. Now, the deck looks great, that can is out of my life, and I'm not feeling quite as annoyed at the Zipkins.

Now, will I be so lucky with the other aged paint cans? I'll let you know.

Sub-scribing, part one

9/6/09 Forty-four magazines (mostly Sports Illustrated), recycled

This will not be the last time I write about Sports Illustrated. I've been a subscriber for over twenty years. The magazine is weekly, so a rough estimation would be that I've received 1,144 issues. Considering that number, I'm pretty proud of how (relatively) few of them I've got stashed away.

A few years ago, I gave up my usually habit of saving all issues. It was part of our prenuptual agreement. Since then, I've only held onto certain special issues and magazines with big Boston sports moment on the cover. That means that I've got quite a few, since the ol' hometown teams have been doing pretty well recently:

Patriots in 2002!

Patriots in 2004!

Red Sox in 2004!

Patriots in 2005!

Red Sox in 2007!

Celtics in 2008!

Bruins in... oh, yeah, we're still waiting.

While holding onto issues that celebrate those sweet moments is completely logical, I realized that there were some magazines that could be culled. I pulled out the boxes where I store back issues and went through them. The result: 44 magazines downsized via the recycling bin.

The two boxes of magazines I have left? Stay posted... I have plans...

The Human Stain

9/5/09 Can of stain, returned to Lowes

As mentioned earlier (you can check out the Downsize post here), I think weather-sealing a deck is the most asinine activity known to man. (With the possible exception of showing up at a Health Care Town Hall meeting with an Obama photo doctored to look like Hitler. Put her in her place, Barney!)

This year, I stood out on our deck and yelled, "Enough!" I startled the cats - sorry about that, guys.

I needed to find another option, so I took the plunge and stained the deck. Actually, I think it looks great and Joanna is willing to back me up on that. However, during the process, I ran out of the factory-mixed colored stain I had purchased at Lowes in Auburn and ran down to Lowes in Windham (much closer) to get more. However, they did not have the pre-mixed stain in the color I needed. The woman in the paint department assured me she could mix it, using the same brand of base stain, to match perfectly.

Long story short: the stain I bought did not match at all. Fortunately, after a little test run in an obscure place, I realized I couldn't use the stain before I screwed up the whole project. Thus, I spent the next hour and a half driving to and back from the Auburn store, where I could buy the factory-mixed stuff. The deck did get finished, the stain all matches, and our house value went up another $20,000, I'm sure.

However, I was left with this bascially unused can of stain that was emblazoned with "NON-REFUNDABLE." As something of a natural hoarder, especially with home-improvement products, I would have usually tucked it away for some other staining project in the distant future. Ah, how I am changing.

Today, I lugged the can back to the Windham store, ready to put up a fight with the store manager or, if necessary, the corporate home office. I had visions of making a huge scene, perhaps turning the whole place into my own personal Town Hall meeting.

However, I was pleasantly surprised, as the woman in customer service quickly refunded my $25 and sent me on my merry way. Which was into the heart of the store, where I promptly spent sixty bucks. (Side note: It does appear that the Windham Lowe's employee base is not only overwhelmingly female, but also overwhelmingly under 25. You go, Lowes: buck those stereotypes.)

As far as I can tell, Lowe's current slogan is, "Let's build something together." Sounds oddly romantic, but today they impressed me enough that if they want to come over and help build that garage I mentioned yesterday, I'm totally game.

Project Time

9/4/09 Can of high heat spray paint, consumed

There are 429,358 reasons why it sucks when Joanna is away. There are only 2 semi-positives.

Positive #1: Bird and I can watch whatever movie we want. We're currently weighing the strengths of Alien 4 vs. From Dusk Till Dawn. Nearly impossible choice, I know.

Positive #2: I become a project maniac when Joanna's gone. Seriously, I get A LOT done. Tomorrow, I may build a garage.

When we moved into our house, there was an old, rusty Franklin stone sitting on our deck. I cleaned it up, and for a brief period it actually served as the world's heaviest candle holder in our house. I thought it was pretty cool, but 400 pounds of scrap iron in the living room tends to get in the way. We eventually lugged it pool-side - yes, we have a pool; yes, we are incredibly rich - where it has served as our chimenea (although we never had Oscar to help us tend it). Of course, years outside has turned this classic, antique symbol of Americana into a rusty eyesore.

I've had a random can of black high-heat stove paint in the basement for years. I bought it so long ago that I don't even know what I bought it for. But, for the last year or so, I've continually said to myself, "I should repaint that dang stove." Just sayin' the same thing over and over. Not doing anything about it, just talkin' to myself.

However, today two irresistible forces coincided: Joanna headed down to Beantown to visit her sister (thus leaving me with PROJECT TIME) and I had to Downsize something, fast.

Goodbye, black spray paint. Hello, finely painted chimenea.

I can't wait until Joanna returns on Sunday.

But...

...in the meantime...

...Alien 4, here I come!

The whole kitten caboodle

9/3/09 Sixteen cat toys, given away

I happen to have the two greatest cats in the world. Seriously. Let me introduce you.

Trane (aka, Mr. Fluffypants, Richard Parker, The Crit, Buddy, Border Kitty,) - World champion leaper. Older brother. Named after John Coltrane, saxophone great. That's Trane entertaining my Nanna in the photo above.

Bird (aka, Girl, Miss Licky, Otis T. Birdsong, Question Mark Tail) - The brains of the operation. Little sister. Named after Charlie "The Bird" Parker, even greater saxophone great.

I could tell a million stories about them (with eleven months to go, I'll be sure to make room for more than a few), but I'll keep it brief for today.

They've got a basket full of toys, most of which just sit in the basket. Every once in a while we'll hear the jingle of a bell and see one of them reaching a paw in to pull out a plaything. But, like children with a cluttered bedroom, perhaps they are overwhelmed by the overabundance of stimuli.

One of their many fabulous qualities is that they are extraordinarily generous and give freely of what they have. Today they agreed to let me give away the majority of their toys, on the condition that I not trim their nails for another two months. We shook on it. (My hand is still bleeding.)

The toys are now under the care of my local librarian, Wes, who has recently assumed responsibility for a stray cat and her litter. You can read all about it on his recent blog post here. Wes shall surely dole out kitty toys in a judicious and thoughtful way, bringing joy to felines everywhere.

Footwork

9/2/09 Foot spa, given away

One of the earliest pieces of advice I was given as a new teacher was to make friends with the custodians and secretaries. Amen, sister.

Our school has two fantastic secretaries who keep the place running like the finely tuned machine we all wish it was. They do a whole lot for me, and I don't do much to return the favor.

Until today!

Pat has had foot troubles, so she was a perfect candidate for today's downsize: a foot spa. I gave it to Joanna a few years ago, since she loves foot attention. She used it a few times, but eventually it ended up in the closet, where it was destined to take up permanent residence.

Until today!

Consumer culture dictates that we must run out, buy things, and love them until the day they die (in a landfill). It's all the better if we tire early of our latest toy and toss it quickly, so we can go out and buy more. If we don't love things forever the fault is either with us - we don't appreciate this great toy! - or with the product - it doesn't deserve our attention! But, today I started to think that somethings are just meant to be with us for a set period of time, and then move on to others.

Take, for example, this foot spa. It was great, we loved it, it loved us.

Until today!

Now, the foot spa is in Pat's capable hands - or, perhaps her feet. May she love it... until she passes it on.

Public Speaker

9/1/09 Computer speaker, trashed

Electronics are hard to downsize. It seems wrong to get rid of something that plugs into a wall and whose inner workings baffle me. Broken stuff I can handle, but if it still operates, wow, it's tough to trash. Of course, with the amazing speed of technological advancement, we find ourselves surrounded by more and more functioning - yet worthless - equipment. Furthermore, as far as I can understand, every outdated electronic device in our homes contains enough hazardous material to build a dirty bomb. Proper disposal is a confusing and complicated process.

I've had the computer speaker (originally part of a pair, but the companion piece died years ago) since I lived in New York. It's traveled up the East Coast with me, sat by my desk, and basically served no function other than to keep the shelf from floating up into the sky. Yesterday, I plugged it into my computer so I could hear a DVD better. The sound out of the speaker wasn't even as loud as the laptop's built in speaker. And it sounded like it had emphysema.

What would you do? I, of course, put it right back on the shelf.

Clearly, as my first month of the Downsizing Challenge drew to a close, I had learned nothing. I had a worthless thing in my hand, and I carefully returned it to the same place it's been sitting for six years. Likely, as I did this, I was thinking to myself, "Now, what can I possibly get rid of today?"

Really, Reed?

Six hours later, as you know if you read yesterday's post, I downsized most of the contents of a binder. It was the best I could do at that late hour.

Today marks Day 1 of the second month of the challenge. I'm one-twelfth of the way through the year, and I'd like to think that the new month has brought me a clearer sense of vision. Today, when I sat down at my desk and the speaker caught my eye, I knew immediately it had to go. Right in the trash. (Don't tell the dirty bomb makers.)

September, continue to show me the way!