The End of an Experiment

I held out for well over a year, but finally decided to surrender and hire help again.  This is the first Saturday morning in a long time I haven't spent cleaning my house.  (Of course, I'm doing a mountain of laundry, but that's life.  I'm waiting for the day we all wear disposable clothes like in The Uglies series by Scott Westerfeld.)  Do you think it's okay to keep the green handbag?  

Lucky Me

I receive lots of these sorts of emails, and most of them are diverted by my spam filter.  For some reason, this one made it through and made me smile. 

How are you today? I'm Mr.Cheng Tian, I work with the Mevas Bank ", Hong Kong. I wish to make a transfer involving a huge amount of money worth $21,500,000.00 I do solicit for you assistance in effecting this transaction. I intend to give 40% of the total funds as compensation for your assistance. if interested, Please get back to me for more details.

40%?! Aren't I lucky?  I could do some serious damage with $8.6 million.  So much for this biglaw working stiff gig . . .

Sobs, Sniffles, and Smiles

Each Christmas, I select and give a book to each of my children.  It's my little way of emphasizing the importance of reading.  I always tell them that the love of words and books has shaped my life in powerful ways.  When I'm gone, I hope that is one of the memories they will have of me.  This year, I gave one of my daughters an illustrated copy of The Gift of the Magi, by O. Henry (a much loved story).  Some of the words are above the average reading level for children (or even adults of this day and age -- e.g., "the silent imputation of parsimony"), but my girls enjoy the story and illustrations very much.

Here's a line from the story that has stuck in my mind:  "[L]ife is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating."  I wonder, is that true?  I suppose O'Henry means that our circumstances usually aren't on either end of the spectrum (either all sobs or all smiles), but rather somewhere in the middle (sniffles).  I'd prefer to think that sniffles are not the middle ground status quo, but some stretches of life do feel that way.  

A couple of days after Christmas, my oldest daughter asked me to take her to get her hair cut.  I thought, "well, good," because I have been suggesting it for months and months.  Turns out, she was inspired by Della in the story, who had her long lovely locks sheared off in exchange for $20, which she used to buy a gift for her dear husband, Jim (and you know the rest of the story).  I thought the moral of the story my girls would take away was that gifts of love and pure sacrifice are the wisest of all.  But it turns out that my daughter was just hoping she could get some payment in return for the hair cut off her own head . . .       

Wednesday's Word -- Negotiate

Arrrg.  Husband and I are in the midst of trying to buy a house.  We bought our first (and current) house 11 years ago, so this would be our second.  The market now is completely different than it was 11 years ago.  One would think that given the housing crisis and all, we would be having an easy time of it.  But alas, too many other people apparently want to snatch up the same deal we're eyeing.  We shall see.  I've been trying so hard to be cold, hard and rational.  But when I found myself daydreaming about my clothes hanging in that house's amazing closet, I knew I was cracking.  Snap out of it!  Yes, we shall see.

Negotiate

In terms of common usage, "negotiate" usually means "to arrange or settle by discussion and mutual agreement" (as in, make a deal).  But at the most basic level, the word comes from the Indo European root ne, which means "not."  Other words from the same root include naught, neither, never, nill, no, none, nothing, nay, null, annul, nullify, annihilate, neglect, negate, and amusingly enough negligee.  So that's not very encouraging, is it?  

I'm still keeping my fingers crossed.  You know, for the sake of my clothes.  They deserve to spread out in the closet of their dreams.    

Post script.  We did get the contract after all, but it's a short [read SLOW] sale, and the sellers needs to take care of the tiny detail of convincing the bank that they should qualify for a short sale.  Going to be an uphill battle I'm afraid.  I suppose we'll be patient.  This closet is pretty close to nirvana.  After we got the house under contract, my husband (who is a realtor) stopped by the house one day to check on it.  He found another couple there looking at the house (apparently their realtor didn't realize the house was under contract).  My husband told me that the wife almost started to cry when she saw the closet.  I completely understand.

X = Y, But It's A Far Cry

Each item cost me exactly $56.  Each item was purchased for my 7 year-old-daughter in the past week.  One made my day, and the other ruined my day.  Isn't it amazing what a powerful effect the spending of money can have?

Wednesday's Word -- Leprechaun

It is St. Patrick's Day.  And one of my favorite meals is a big bowl of Lucky Charms, after all.

The word "leprechaun" comes from the Old Irish luchorpán, which dissected is "lu," meaning small and "corp," meaning body.  So leprechaun means "small body."  According to Irish folklore, leprechauns are male fairies who often work as shoemakers or tailors and are thought to have hidden pots of gold at the end of the rainbow.  If caught, they will reveal the location of the gold, but usually they trick you, cunningly snatching the gold away at the last moment.  In some stories, a leprechaun will grant you wishes if you catch him.  In others, the leprechaun might turn you into a skunk or a rabbit if you displease him in some way.

Although Hollywood and the media have portrayed leprechauns as little gaudy men decked in green with top hats and red hair, the older folktales depict leprechauns dressed in red.  The leprechauns are said to come from the supernatural tribes of the Tuatha Dé Danann of Irish mythology.  These people ruled Ireland for a very long time, but when the humans arrived and began building villages in the formerly wild woods, the tribes hid and over time made themselves smaller and smaller so that they could easily hide from humans.  


Believe it or not, a $6.8 million National Leprechaun Museum was just opened in Dublin, Ireland last week. The museum has a series of attractions in different rooms, ending -- as all such tours must -- in a gift shop.  There is a rain room, where sound effects and lights make you feel like you're outside in an Irish rainstorm.  There's also a leprechaun well that uses optical illusions to appear limitlessly deep.  My favorite is a room where items such as furniture become unusually large to make you feel like you have shrunken in size and become a leprechaun yourself.  


The museum claims that it is trying to change the way people view the leprechauns, but I must say it sounds a bit like the side-of-the-road attractions in the hills of the southeast we used to beg my parents to stop at along the way on family road trips.  You know the type with signs every so many feet enticing you to stop with promises of never-before-seen-nor-ever-to-be-seen-again wonders?  I even distinctly remember a room that made you feel that you had shrunken in size, or some such optical trick.


In any event, don't base your personal financial plan on catching a leprechaun.  Top of the morning (actually evening) to you!  

Acquisitions and Dispositions

I spent several hours cleaning and purging my bedroom closet over the weekend.  Here are some of the cast-off offerings, all bagged up and ready to clutter up Goodwill instead of my closet.  

Since the "purge," I find myself making frequent visits to the closet just to take in the order and liberation of it all.  

Isn't it ironic that both acquiring and disposing of possessions brings such joy and satisfaction?  My father recently told me that he would be happy if all that he owns could be contained in a single suitcase.   I don't know if I could quite say the same at this point in my life, but I do feel so inexplicably pleased when, for example, I can use up the remainders of a bottle of shampoo and throw it away, reducing the total number of bottles taking up space in my shower.  Or throw tupperware container after container of food away to restore orderly emptiness to my refrigerator shelves.  Why is that?  The silly part, of course, is that I buy more clothes, more shampoo and more food, and the cycle begins again. 

My life is one endless round of subtraction and addition, ebbing and flowing, cleaning out and cluttering back, removing and replacing.  Can you relate?

Thoreau (who, as much as I love him, was a bit of a spartan -- the man did write "beware of all enterprises that require new clothes" after all . . . .) had this to say about possessions:

"Most of the luxuries, and many of the so called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hinderances to the elevation of mankind."  [Walden, "Economy"]

Studies show that acquiring possessions does in fact bring happiness.  But that happiness is fleeting.  We adjust to our things, and they lose their magic.  One interesting finding (that completely meshes with my own personal experience) is that giving our possessions away, on the other hand, brings more lasting joy.

Perhaps the solution is to enjoy something for a short time and then gift it to someone else who will get the same joy and can then gift it along to another?  Or we could periodically swap possessions with each other?  The lovely handbag that I just had to have for the kitchen gadget that called your name and then sat on your counter?

Well, for now, I'm going to enjoy my gutted closet.  But, truth be told, I will enjoy filling it back up again -- even if (apologies to Thoreau) it hinders my "elevation" to some degree.

Post Script:  Isn't this Everything I Have Poster cool?  Doesn't it make you want to throw things out?

Post Post Script:  Some time ago, my sister Becky told me about a great children's book called The Girl Who Wore Too Much.  I would highly recommend it!  How many of us (myself included) are carrying around too many layers?  It's no wonder we can't climb the hill.  Elevation hindered.  Indeed.

Saving, Spending and Acquiring Some Green

I recently decided to fire my house cleaners.  When I told my husband, he laughed. 

One of the neighbor girls was over at our house this past Saturday, playing with my girls.  It was 11 a.m.  I was still in my pajamas.  I was cleaning.  She said (astounded):  "Wow, Miss Jessica, I've never seen you clean before!"  I just smiled/grimaced.  No sense arguing with a child.  At least not with one who isn't related to me. 

Several years ago, we were at a church activity, and the husband of a friend asked me (out of the blue -- who knows why) what kind of vacuum we use.  I said I thought it was a Hoover (or something).  My husband chuckled, corrected me, and made clear that I had no clue about the brand of our vacuum.  Both men laughed heartily, as if a woman who doesn't know vacuum brands is the funniest thing ever. 

I actually don't find any of this funny.  Despite what certain people may think, I do clean -- a lot.  Perhaps I straighten more than I clean, but . . .

I do spend an inordinate amount of time moving things from room to room.

And I do wash dishes until my knuckles bleed. 

And I do fold so much laundry I want to pull my hair out. 

And I do wipe things down and make things shine.

And I do sort and manage the neverending stack of paper that my daughters bring home from school.

And I do mop the kitchen floor every night, because I am surrounded by slobs.

And -- I do use the vacuum. 

Even if I don't pay attention to its make and model.

Why did I fire the cleaners after enjoying the last decade free of toilet scrubbing?  Because as the economy presses, they cut corners.  It's not the fault of the lovely women who actually do the cleaning.  Rather, the problem is that their boss lady (a tough woman from the Czech Republic) is a task master and has taken to coming with them to our house, barking her orders to "clean faster!"  This, while neglecting to even raise a finger to help.  (I know this because I have spies who report.)  That, and the notes she started leaving me with pre-cleaning "requests" that end up demanding hours of my time, as I clean in preparation for the cleaners. 

So, we fired them.  The idea was to save some money.  You know how it is in these economic times.  A budget is the "thing."  But somehow, as I scrubbed toilets and vacuumed room after room (with a Kenmore vacuum -- I think), budget wasn't cutting it. 

I wouldn't recommend this, but I couldn't help myself.  I used the money I would have saved from one cleaning session and bought myself this lovely green handbag:

The way I see it, I saved some green, spent some green and acquired some green.  If you see me with this bag on my arm, picture me toiling away.  Scouring, dusting.  Scrubbing, mopping.  Polishing, wiping.  And if my house looks a tad bit dirtier than it used to, you'll know why.  Just don't ask me about my vacuum.