This post is about actual light bulbs. not epiphanies. Once upon a time, light bulbs used to be easy, but not now. Now it takes research and trying to decide which bulb, which lumens, etc. It's enough to frustrate the heck out of a person. Okay, it frustrates me!
I'd worked out all the light bulbs in my former home and it was all good. Then I moved. Most of the bulbs were okay. Not what I would have chose, but livable. Except for the ceiling fixtures.
I can't stand the CFL bulbs. (I think CFL is what they're called.) Those twisty, soft-serve ice cream looking bulbs. They're not instant on. I flip a switch and they stay dim and awful until they're on for a while. Literally can't tolerate them at all. When I turn a switch on, I want my light now. And every single ceiling light fixture in this house has a CFL bulb in it.
At first, I thought I could live with it until they needed to be replaced, but a few weeks of frustration proved otherwise. I wanted to swap them for LED bulbs which meant research to find a bulb that could be inside an enclosed fixture. Like I said, light bulbs used to be easy.
I did find one I like and I had my handyman replace almost all the bulbs. I would have had all of them done, but my office wasn't unpacked from the move then and he literally couldn't get a ladder in there to reach the fixture. :-/ Now I have things in a little better shape. Not great, but better.
It was an instant improvement. I could actually see right away! Bliss!
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Holes In My Walls
I'll try to make this my last story about my move to a new house.
When I looked at this house, it was immaculate. That was one of the big reasons we decided to buy it--everything was pristine. It also saved me from the anxiety of building, which I really didn't want to do if I could avoid it. The woman lived alone and was hyper-organized. My OCD self said, ooh, another OCD neat and clean person. This is great.
We put an offer in on the house. All the inspections passed with flying colors.
And then came the walk through. Her stuff was in boxes everywhere, so it was hard to see everything, but the house didn't look as pristine as it had the day we'd looked at it. I noticed some cobwebs. Maybe she's just been too busy to clean, I thought.
We go upstairs on the walk through. There's dog poop on the carpet. Our Realtor says that the woman probably didn't know it was there and that she'd be mortified and probably get the carpets cleaned before we moved in. And I thought the same thing at that point because I still believed this woman shared my OCD about things being clean.
And then we got possession of the house and I was appalled. She took her TV holders from the walls and left the holes! That's right, my new house has multiple holes in TWO WALLS because she took her TV racks or whatever they're called. My Realtor was appalled. The seller was also a Realtor and she should have known (said my Realtor) that anything attached to the walls must stay. I was going to write that the seller took everything that wasn't nailed down, but that's not exactly true. She took stuff that was nailed down, too (The TV holders). She even took the shower rods!
The cobwebs remained. There were some really thick ones near the bathroom window in the master bath, in the corners of the master bedroom, and in the hallway to the master bedroom. There were lighter spider webs adorning most of the light fixtures in the house.
One other thing, she was supposed to pay me rent for the two extra days she stayed in the house. She did not leave a check or contact my Realtor to pay that money. The cost to repair to two walls she left holes in? Exactly matches what she owes me for the two days of rent. I'm still pissed off about this.
When I looked at this house, it was immaculate. That was one of the big reasons we decided to buy it--everything was pristine. It also saved me from the anxiety of building, which I really didn't want to do if I could avoid it. The woman lived alone and was hyper-organized. My OCD self said, ooh, another OCD neat and clean person. This is great.
We put an offer in on the house. All the inspections passed with flying colors.
And then came the walk through. Her stuff was in boxes everywhere, so it was hard to see everything, but the house didn't look as pristine as it had the day we'd looked at it. I noticed some cobwebs. Maybe she's just been too busy to clean, I thought.
We go upstairs on the walk through. There's dog poop on the carpet. Our Realtor says that the woman probably didn't know it was there and that she'd be mortified and probably get the carpets cleaned before we moved in. And I thought the same thing at that point because I still believed this woman shared my OCD about things being clean.
And then we got possession of the house and I was appalled. She took her TV holders from the walls and left the holes! That's right, my new house has multiple holes in TWO WALLS because she took her TV racks or whatever they're called. My Realtor was appalled. The seller was also a Realtor and she should have known (said my Realtor) that anything attached to the walls must stay. I was going to write that the seller took everything that wasn't nailed down, but that's not exactly true. She took stuff that was nailed down, too (The TV holders). She even took the shower rods!
The cobwebs remained. There were some really thick ones near the bathroom window in the master bath, in the corners of the master bedroom, and in the hallway to the master bedroom. There were lighter spider webs adorning most of the light fixtures in the house.
One other thing, she was supposed to pay me rent for the two extra days she stayed in the house. She did not leave a check or contact my Realtor to pay that money. The cost to repair to two walls she left holes in? Exactly matches what she owes me for the two days of rent. I'm still pissed off about this.
Thursday, December 07, 2017
The Saga Continues
This is sort of another moving post. I promised I had a lot to say about this and I wasn't lying. :-) I say sort of another moving post because while I believe it's directly related to the move, I can't prove it. Circumstantial evidence is strong, though.
On Wednesday, I used my credit card to pay the packers for loading our stuff into boxes. It was called in over the phone to the office. The move itself was paid for by check because the office was closed by the time the move was finished, but that ended up being a good thing because that following Monday, I received a phone call from my credit card company (Luckily, I left my phone working at my former house and luckily I happened to be at that house when the call came). They'd noticed several suspicious charges and wanted to know if I'd used my card at a department store.
Not just no, but hell no.
I get transferred to a representative. In India. He cancels my credit card, issues a new one, and says I will be emailed with what I need to do about the other 6 fraudulent charges on my card.
No email comes, and since he was difficult to understand, I thought perhaps he meant US Mail, but when Saturday came and went without a letter, I went back to my old house and used the phone. Yes, while all this is going on, I still have no phone or internet in my new home.
This time I get a woman in India who doesn't understand what I'm telling her until the fourth time I explained to her that my credit card number had been stolen. Then she tells me the first guy I talked to had done everything wrong aside from cancelling my old credit card, but that she couldn't help me. I needed to talk to the security department and they don't work on the weekends. I need to call back on Monday. She gives me their direct number.
I call the security department on Monday from my day job. The woman I speak with is in India. She doesn't understand what I'm telling her until the second time I explain that my credit card number was stolen. She works in the security department and this is her job! She didn't seem to take the situation very seriously or care very much.
I read off the six fraudulent charges with amounts and she says they'll come off my account. I'm not left with a very confident feeling about her handling of this problem.
A week later, only three of the charges have come off my account. I Google to find out how to talk to a representative in the United States. I find a number on their website for the security department that's different from the one I already had. I call that and I do get a US person.
Things went much more smoothly this time. She discovered that the woman in India only recorded five of the fraudulent charges even though I told her multiple times that there were six.
But after this phone call, everything was resolved. This experience did not leave me with the warm fuzzies for the credit card company in question. If they're going to outsource, they should train their people better. This was an ordeal that came at a super bad time and it was made more difficult by the lack of phone and internet.
My chief suspect in the theft of my credit card number? The moving company. The charges began the day after I gave them my number to pay for the packing and all the charges were in Georgia. Like I said, I can't prove anything, but it's pretty coincidental to believe it was someone else.
On Wednesday, I used my credit card to pay the packers for loading our stuff into boxes. It was called in over the phone to the office. The move itself was paid for by check because the office was closed by the time the move was finished, but that ended up being a good thing because that following Monday, I received a phone call from my credit card company (Luckily, I left my phone working at my former house and luckily I happened to be at that house when the call came). They'd noticed several suspicious charges and wanted to know if I'd used my card at a department store.
Not just no, but hell no.
I get transferred to a representative. In India. He cancels my credit card, issues a new one, and says I will be emailed with what I need to do about the other 6 fraudulent charges on my card.
No email comes, and since he was difficult to understand, I thought perhaps he meant US Mail, but when Saturday came and went without a letter, I went back to my old house and used the phone. Yes, while all this is going on, I still have no phone or internet in my new home.
This time I get a woman in India who doesn't understand what I'm telling her until the fourth time I explained to her that my credit card number had been stolen. Then she tells me the first guy I talked to had done everything wrong aside from cancelling my old credit card, but that she couldn't help me. I needed to talk to the security department and they don't work on the weekends. I need to call back on Monday. She gives me their direct number.
I call the security department on Monday from my day job. The woman I speak with is in India. She doesn't understand what I'm telling her until the second time I explain that my credit card number was stolen. She works in the security department and this is her job! She didn't seem to take the situation very seriously or care very much.
I read off the six fraudulent charges with amounts and she says they'll come off my account. I'm not left with a very confident feeling about her handling of this problem.
A week later, only three of the charges have come off my account. I Google to find out how to talk to a representative in the United States. I find a number on their website for the security department that's different from the one I already had. I call that and I do get a US person.
Things went much more smoothly this time. She discovered that the woman in India only recorded five of the fraudulent charges even though I told her multiple times that there were six.
But after this phone call, everything was resolved. This experience did not leave me with the warm fuzzies for the credit card company in question. If they're going to outsource, they should train their people better. This was an ordeal that came at a super bad time and it was made more difficult by the lack of phone and internet.
My chief suspect in the theft of my credit card number? The moving company. The charges began the day after I gave them my number to pay for the packing and all the charges were in Georgia. Like I said, I can't prove anything, but it's pretty coincidental to believe it was someone else.
Tuesday, December 05, 2017
No Cable For You
I'm trying something new here. I've recorded what I wrote in this blog. Mostly. It's not exact. If you like it, head over to my Facebook page and let me know. If you don't like this, let me know that as well. If it doesn't work, I'm sorry and I don't know how to make it work. This is a test. :-)
Four and a half years ago when I moved into my former house, I waited too long to call Comcast and ended up not having television, internet or phone for two weeks. This time I was determined that I would call them early and arrange everything so that I didn't have a gap. My appointment was made for the afternoon of the day we moved.
Then came the phone call.
Two days before the move, the department that was sending the technician called to confirm. They had the wrong address. I corrected him. He said I'd have to call to a representative and that he'd have the one who made the appointment call me.
Hours later, she finally did. Comcast doesn't service my new address, she said. I said yes, you do. I can see the Comcast box in a yard three houses away. She put in a ticket and said she'd call me the next day.
No call, so I called them. While the packers were working.
I talked to a super nice guy, who said he needed to put in a different ticket than the one the lady put in the day before. He said he'd call me back the next day. I received no call, and since that was moving day and chaos reigned, I didn't call them on that Thursday.
Friday, I use my cell phone and call. The woman I talked to said I wasn't in Comcast's area, I was in Spectrum's area. I'm like, but I can see the Comcast box three houses away and she said that it works that way sometimes. At this point, I'm just like whatever, let me call Spectrum because I need internet and telephone and yes, television.
Spectrum said, "You're not in our area, you're in Comcast's area."
I call Comcast back. This guy I talk with actually checks the tickets that were put in on Tuesday and Wednesday. The report: I am in Comcast's area, but I'm more than 150 feet away from some box or module or something and therefore I can't have Comcast.
And so I ended up having to get DirecTV. The earliest appointment I could get for installation? Two weeks away. Yes, once again I moved and spent the next two weeks with no internet, television, or phone despite the fact that I did my level best to avoid this situation. But wait, it gets better.
One month after the move, two weeks after I'm installed with DirecTV and committed for two years, my dad notices they're digging holes out in the yard and in the yards of some neighbors. He goes out to ask them what's going on. The work is being done on behalf of Comcast--they're finally wiring phase two of the subdivision for cable.
I like to believe that I'm directly responsible for this, however, it won't benefit me until 2019 when I can go back to Comcast. And yes, at this point, I most definitely plan to go back to cable. While the picture on the TV is clearer with dish, that's about the only thing that I like better.
Four and a half years ago when I moved into my former house, I waited too long to call Comcast and ended up not having television, internet or phone for two weeks. This time I was determined that I would call them early and arrange everything so that I didn't have a gap. My appointment was made for the afternoon of the day we moved.
Then came the phone call.
Two days before the move, the department that was sending the technician called to confirm. They had the wrong address. I corrected him. He said I'd have to call to a representative and that he'd have the one who made the appointment call me.
Hours later, she finally did. Comcast doesn't service my new address, she said. I said yes, you do. I can see the Comcast box in a yard three houses away. She put in a ticket and said she'd call me the next day.
No call, so I called them. While the packers were working.
I talked to a super nice guy, who said he needed to put in a different ticket than the one the lady put in the day before. He said he'd call me back the next day. I received no call, and since that was moving day and chaos reigned, I didn't call them on that Thursday.
Friday, I use my cell phone and call. The woman I talked to said I wasn't in Comcast's area, I was in Spectrum's area. I'm like, but I can see the Comcast box three houses away and she said that it works that way sometimes. At this point, I'm just like whatever, let me call Spectrum because I need internet and telephone and yes, television.
Spectrum said, "You're not in our area, you're in Comcast's area."
I call Comcast back. This guy I talk with actually checks the tickets that were put in on Tuesday and Wednesday. The report: I am in Comcast's area, but I'm more than 150 feet away from some box or module or something and therefore I can't have Comcast.
And so I ended up having to get DirecTV. The earliest appointment I could get for installation? Two weeks away. Yes, once again I moved and spent the next two weeks with no internet, television, or phone despite the fact that I did my level best to avoid this situation. But wait, it gets better.
One month after the move, two weeks after I'm installed with DirecTV and committed for two years, my dad notices they're digging holes out in the yard and in the yards of some neighbors. He goes out to ask them what's going on. The work is being done on behalf of Comcast--they're finally wiring phase two of the subdivision for cable.
I like to believe that I'm directly responsible for this, however, it won't benefit me until 2019 when I can go back to Comcast. And yes, at this point, I most definitely plan to go back to cable. While the picture on the TV is clearer with dish, that's about the only thing that I like better.
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Moving Stinks
When I moved to Georgia, it was such an ordeal that I swore I would never do it again. Circumstances forced me to relinquish this vow, but this second move wasn't any more fun than the first one and had some added stressors like the fact that I was out of town right before the move. I did mention that October was a very busy month for me and that I would have a lot of blog posts about that month. :-) I'll probably talk about my trip later, but in the meantime, moving. Sigh.
I returned from my trip late Monday afternoon to discover I had a warning about low tire pressure. None of the tires looked low to me, so I drove home and spent the evening driving back and forth between houses with stuff I didn't want the movers to take.
Tuesday included a phone call from Comcast to confirm my installation and they had the address wrong. The guy said he'd have the rep I talked to call me back. It would be about ten or fifteen minutes. I decided to wait to take my shower after the rep called, then I'd hop in and we'd take the car to the service center to get the tires taken care of. And I waited. And waited. And waited. It was hours before the call came. (I'll do a separate post about Comcast because it deserves one.)
After getting my tire inflated--there were no issues with it--we moved more things between the two houses, but waiting for Comcast to call really hosed up the day.
Wednesday the packers came. There were three of them and they weren't there nearly as long as I expected. The oldest of the three complained about the hill, but the other two seemed fine with it and the team leader even said he hoped he'd be assigned to move us the next day. I said to my dad, "Watch, the one guy who doesn't want to be assigned to move us will be here tomorrow."
Thursday proved me right.
Ah, Thursday, the ordeal that went on and on and on. We have too much stuff and that's a fact, but we have two households squeezed into one. My dad moved in with me after my mom passed away and he brought a hell of a lot of stuff with him. We thought we were building a house and would have plenty of time to go through things and get rid of some of them, but the change in plans left us scrambling to make the move.
We loaded the moving truck twice. It took nine hours to move us and the guys never took a break, not even for lunch, which means I didn't have a break either. My dad did get one (good thing) because he stayed at the old house while I told them where to put things at the new house.
So the guys had to deal with the hill at the old house and the stairs at the new house because all my books (and those boxes were heavy) were going upstairs. I started apologizing at some point during the afternoon. They were covered in sweat and tired and they kept going up and down the stairs over and over.
Overall, the move could have been worse. It was worse when I moved from Minnesota and those national movers damaged a lot of my furniture. Severely. I did have damage this time too. The three pieces of furniture that I bought after I moved to Georgia are now scarred. The stuff that was banged up in the move from Minneapolis had zero damage. I'm guessing that's a offshoot from Murphy's law. I console myself with the fact that these guys didn't rip two legs off my sofa like the movers from Minnesota did.
It's all relative, but there are more adventures tied to this move that I have yet to blog about. Stay tuned.
I returned from my trip late Monday afternoon to discover I had a warning about low tire pressure. None of the tires looked low to me, so I drove home and spent the evening driving back and forth between houses with stuff I didn't want the movers to take.
Tuesday included a phone call from Comcast to confirm my installation and they had the address wrong. The guy said he'd have the rep I talked to call me back. It would be about ten or fifteen minutes. I decided to wait to take my shower after the rep called, then I'd hop in and we'd take the car to the service center to get the tires taken care of. And I waited. And waited. And waited. It was hours before the call came. (I'll do a separate post about Comcast because it deserves one.)
After getting my tire inflated--there were no issues with it--we moved more things between the two houses, but waiting for Comcast to call really hosed up the day.
Wednesday the packers came. There were three of them and they weren't there nearly as long as I expected. The oldest of the three complained about the hill, but the other two seemed fine with it and the team leader even said he hoped he'd be assigned to move us the next day. I said to my dad, "Watch, the one guy who doesn't want to be assigned to move us will be here tomorrow."
Thursday proved me right.
Ah, Thursday, the ordeal that went on and on and on. We have too much stuff and that's a fact, but we have two households squeezed into one. My dad moved in with me after my mom passed away and he brought a hell of a lot of stuff with him. We thought we were building a house and would have plenty of time to go through things and get rid of some of them, but the change in plans left us scrambling to make the move.
We loaded the moving truck twice. It took nine hours to move us and the guys never took a break, not even for lunch, which means I didn't have a break either. My dad did get one (good thing) because he stayed at the old house while I told them where to put things at the new house.
So the guys had to deal with the hill at the old house and the stairs at the new house because all my books (and those boxes were heavy) were going upstairs. I started apologizing at some point during the afternoon. They were covered in sweat and tired and they kept going up and down the stairs over and over.
Overall, the move could have been worse. It was worse when I moved from Minnesota and those national movers damaged a lot of my furniture. Severely. I did have damage this time too. The three pieces of furniture that I bought after I moved to Georgia are now scarred. The stuff that was banged up in the move from Minneapolis had zero damage. I'm guessing that's a offshoot from Murphy's law. I console myself with the fact that these guys didn't rip two legs off my sofa like the movers from Minnesota did.
It's all relative, but there are more adventures tied to this move that I have yet to blog about. Stay tuned.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
The Piano
As long as I can remember, my parents have had this enormous player piano in their basement. When I took piano lessons as a little girl, I practiced on this piano. Kind of practiced. I wasn't really dedicated the way I should have been.
I also have a vague recollection of a party where the music was supplied by the player part of the piano. It was exciting to choose which roll went in next.
Fast forward to now. My parents are trying to clean out their house so they can downsize into a condo near me in Georgia. I've blogged about this ordeal more than once because it's been ongoing for more than three years and they're still nowhere close to done. For the past year or so, my mom has been telling my dad that they have to get rid of the piano. This month, my dad finally did some calling around.
Although the piano is cool and my mom said nearly 100 years old, it isn't worth that much money. I did some searching online and most people who buy them from their owners agree to take them for the price it would cost to move them. Yes, that's right, the moving company gets $3000 and the owners get nothing. That's because these pianos are only worth about $3000.
My parents didn't even come out that well on the deal. They found a charity that will take the piano. It's some kind of deal that gives pianos to childrens' homes or disadvantaged children, something like that. So my parents will be paying to move the piano and giving it away for free. At least it's tax deductible and they don't have to mess around with having people come in and out of their house to look at it.
When I talked to them on the phone and the departure of the piano was imminent, we were all surprisingly sad. My mom because the piano had been a gift from her parents and me because I can remember the times my cousins would visit and we'd be in the basement listening to the piano rolls.
Although it kind of feels as if I'm losing a friend, the truth is that no one has touched the piano in a super long time. It's out of tune, keys are missing the ivory, and we don't even know if the player part works any longer. When the cost of moving it to Georgia is factored in (even if we could find somewhere to put that huge thing!), there isn't another choice except get rid of it. My dad is taking pictures, though, and that will have to be enough.
I also have a vague recollection of a party where the music was supplied by the player part of the piano. It was exciting to choose which roll went in next.
Fast forward to now. My parents are trying to clean out their house so they can downsize into a condo near me in Georgia. I've blogged about this ordeal more than once because it's been ongoing for more than three years and they're still nowhere close to done. For the past year or so, my mom has been telling my dad that they have to get rid of the piano. This month, my dad finally did some calling around.
Although the piano is cool and my mom said nearly 100 years old, it isn't worth that much money. I did some searching online and most people who buy them from their owners agree to take them for the price it would cost to move them. Yes, that's right, the moving company gets $3000 and the owners get nothing. That's because these pianos are only worth about $3000.
My parents didn't even come out that well on the deal. They found a charity that will take the piano. It's some kind of deal that gives pianos to childrens' homes or disadvantaged children, something like that. So my parents will be paying to move the piano and giving it away for free. At least it's tax deductible and they don't have to mess around with having people come in and out of their house to look at it.
When I talked to them on the phone and the departure of the piano was imminent, we were all surprisingly sad. My mom because the piano had been a gift from her parents and me because I can remember the times my cousins would visit and we'd be in the basement listening to the piano rolls.
Although it kind of feels as if I'm losing a friend, the truth is that no one has touched the piano in a super long time. It's out of tune, keys are missing the ivory, and we don't even know if the player part works any longer. When the cost of moving it to Georgia is factored in (even if we could find somewhere to put that huge thing!), there isn't another choice except get rid of it. My dad is taking pictures, though, and that will have to be enough.
Tuesday, May 05, 2015
"It's Just Paper"
More adventures in helping my parents downsize. Or trying to help them.
With my mom not open to any logic or reason on what she should get rid of and what was worth keeping, I decided to get my dad moving. While we were both trying to convince my mom that she couldn't move everything to Georgia, she'd pointed out that my dad's basement office was packed to the gills.
She was right about that and every time she mentioned it, my dad's response was, "That's just paper."
When I suggested to him that we work on this room, he gave me that same response. My reply was that it might just be paper, but it still needed to go and we might as well tackle it now. We made it one hour before he said, "Let's go upstairs and check on Mom."
Sigh. I'm like, "But if we go upstairs now, we'll be done or the day." The argument fell on deaf ears. We went upstairs.
The second day, we made it an hour and fifteen minutes before Dad decided it was time to start dinner. To his credit, he did go back downstairs after he ate and brought up one more box to sort through, but we should have spent more time working and less time messing around. The office isn't that big and two days should have been enough to finish it. That would be two full days as in eight hours each day, not one hour or so each day.
I can't even believe this. You don't want to know how many headache remedies I used while visiting my parents.
With my mom not open to any logic or reason on what she should get rid of and what was worth keeping, I decided to get my dad moving. While we were both trying to convince my mom that she couldn't move everything to Georgia, she'd pointed out that my dad's basement office was packed to the gills.
She was right about that and every time she mentioned it, my dad's response was, "That's just paper."
When I suggested to him that we work on this room, he gave me that same response. My reply was that it might just be paper, but it still needed to go and we might as well tackle it now. We made it one hour before he said, "Let's go upstairs and check on Mom."
Sigh. I'm like, "But if we go upstairs now, we'll be done or the day." The argument fell on deaf ears. We went upstairs.
The second day, we made it an hour and fifteen minutes before Dad decided it was time to start dinner. To his credit, he did go back downstairs after he ate and brought up one more box to sort through, but we should have spent more time working and less time messing around. The office isn't that big and two days should have been enough to finish it. That would be two full days as in eight hours each day, not one hour or so each day.
I can't even believe this. You don't want to know how many headache remedies I used while visiting my parents.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Adventures In Downsizing
I've been in Minnesota the past couple of weeks. The idea
was to help my parents clean out their house because they're supposed to move
to Georgia, too, but they haven't gotten very far. Keep in mind, it's been
three years since I started working in Atlanta and almost two years since I
moved all my worldly goods to my new home. This is also despite phone calls
where my parents would give me updates on how much work they're getting done.
Um, yeah, not so much. This isn't the first time I've
returned home and expected more progress than I've seen, but I actually thought
that they were serious now and would actually get going. I was wrong.
When I traveled up to Minnesota to clean out the junk in my
house, especially the heavy accumulation in the basement, we'd work 12 hours or
more every day. My parents would come over and help me. I also went up with a
plan on what we'd tackle to get the most accomplished in the shortest amount of
time.
I expected this same thing from my parents last October and
didn't get it, so I suggested a month ahead of time that they come up with a
plan to use my time up north this April to the best advantage. Do you think
they did this? No.
In fact, we hardly spent any time cleaning out the house at
all. Let's talk about a typical day.
I will take my share of the blame for the morning dawdling.
I'm bad about this and I know it. I like to sip my coffee and take my time, but
once I get ready, I'm good to go. My parents? Not so much. They dawdle in the
morning, too. Breakfast and the newspaper take forever. Okay, until around
11ish, but this is longer than it takes me.
Are we ready to get started at 11am? Of course not. Now my
dad has to go to the grocery store, and of course, we can't do anything without
him. He gets home around 12:45, but we can't begin working now because it's
lunch time. My parents dawdle through another meal.
I make the huge mistake of saying, "The mailman's
here."
Instead of leaving the mail there until later, my dad runs
out to get it. This wastes another hour as they read their junk mail. Who the
hell opens their junk mail and reads it?
The clock is now saying it's after 3pm and we've yet to do
anything. At long last, we head for the basement. My mom won't get rid of
anything. Anything!
The sequin kits she bought in the 1970s as a project to add
bling to clothes? She's can't donate those because she's going to use them.
Never mind that sequins on clothes isn't exactly a fashion do right now. Never
mind that she's had them sitting for
forty years already. Never mind that she didn't even remember buying them.
Never mind that she's never been that into crafts. Those kits must not leave
her possession because she's suddenly decided that she'll use them.
Same thing with the Santa craft kit and the material she's
going to sew and the yarn and the rug kits. Well, you get the idea. All the
crafts that she's never done in decades are now things she's going to work on
once she moves to Atlanta.
Sure she will.
After about 90 minutes of arguing over everything with my
mom, my dad announces we should go upstairs and start working on dinner.
That's right. It's time for yet another meal. Of course, we
don't go back down after dinner to do any additional work. Why would we
possibly want to do that? Variations on this theme happened every single day.
Some days we didn't get more than an hour of time in. I'm still not sure how
this is possible, but it explains why my parents have accomplished exactly
nothing.
I have a couple more stories, so stay tuned for
more fun in helping my parents downsize.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
One Year
It's been just over a year since I officially moved from Minnesota into my new home in Georgia. Last July, I was stressed to the max as I closed on one house (my beautiful MN home), and then seven days later, closed on a second (my new GA home). I thought I'd share a few thoughts.
My new house is on top of a very steep hill. I like this when it rains because I don't have to worry about flooding. Everything is going away from my home. I do not like it, though, when I have to roll the garbage can out for pick up. I keep it in a death grip, worried that if I lose my hold on it, it's going to roll wildly down my driveway and into the pond across the street.
The new kitchen has a lot of counter space and cabinet space, which I really like, but because I no longer have a basement, I've had to store my good dishes in the island. This means I actually have less space.
I also miss having pullouts in the lower cabinets (I loved those!) and I miss my two bread boards that were built in to the cabinets. I did install some after market pullouts in one cabinet. There's some wasted space since they're not custom, but I'm going to put them in two more cabinets because I practically have to crawl in to reach the things in back.
Still in the kitchen, I'm not wildly in love with the granite used on my counters. I can't see crumbs really well because of the color. I've also been unable to find the tan twisty wire things that come on bread because of how close the color is. The dark inclusions also look too much like bugs. That said, because of the huge amount of counter space I have, replacing them with something I like better is too expensive.
The pantry is also a little small, although it is much bigger than the one I had in Minnesota. So it's a gain, but I wish it was a walk in with really nice shelving.
Also strongly in the do not like category is the scorpions. I've found seven in my house since I moved in. There are no words for how much I loathe any bug, but those are extra prehistorically creepy.
I have a formal living room that I have no use for. I'm sorry, but if I'm inviting someone to my house, they're going to have to hang out in the family room. Because I needed the space, I have boxes of my books up there plus my scrapbooking supplies. The ultimate goal is to get some screens up to block it off because the dining room is right there as is the front door.
This house is on a smaller lot than I had in Minnesota--much smaller--but it has as much (if not more) privacy. I credit my hill with that. When the house was built, they basically cut into the top of the hill. I still have a rise in land on three sides of my house, and with the trees fully leafed, I don't even know I have neighbors. The house is also blissfully quiet. I don't usually hear my neighbors either. Total win.
I also credit my hill with the lack of casual doorbell ringers. :-) You have to really want to see me to make the climb.
Great outdoor space! I have fabulous outdoor space in my new home. A nice, large covered back patio that I plan to have screened in and a good sized front porch. I had a large front porch in MN, too, but that one was square, making it difficult to consider a true outdoor space. I have a rectangle here and could actually fit chairs and a table out there if I wanted. But I've had some wasps out there, so, yeah, no.
I still hate the commute down here. I'm like twice as far away from my job as I was in Minneapolis and I hate that. I get two hours later than I used to--partly because I start an hour later, but the commute is the reason for the other hour. At least I have my van pool which saves me money, wear and tear on my car, and makes the trip faster with people to talk to.
Sticker shock. The general belief up in Minnesota is that it's cheaper to live in the South. The other truism is that Minnesota has high state income tax. Neither is true. It's much more expensive for me to live in Georgia.
*Sales tax is just about the same
*State income tax is just about the same. ($5.00 higher in MN)
*Property tax is higher and there's no property tax refund down here
*Electric is much more expensive
*Gas is at least double what I paid in MN
*Water, OMG, the cost of water down here is unbelievable. 3 times higher. What I pay for one month in GA, is what I paid in three months for MN.
*Housing is not cheaper either because I couldn't afford a house with a basement down here.
*Don't ask me about the ridiculous amount I had to pay to get license plates for my car down here. It was criminal!
So, bottom line, just like living anywhere, there are pluses and minuses. Some things are better, some worse, so I guess it all comes out about even.
My new house is on top of a very steep hill. I like this when it rains because I don't have to worry about flooding. Everything is going away from my home. I do not like it, though, when I have to roll the garbage can out for pick up. I keep it in a death grip, worried that if I lose my hold on it, it's going to roll wildly down my driveway and into the pond across the street.
The new kitchen has a lot of counter space and cabinet space, which I really like, but because I no longer have a basement, I've had to store my good dishes in the island. This means I actually have less space.
I also miss having pullouts in the lower cabinets (I loved those!) and I miss my two bread boards that were built in to the cabinets. I did install some after market pullouts in one cabinet. There's some wasted space since they're not custom, but I'm going to put them in two more cabinets because I practically have to crawl in to reach the things in back.
Still in the kitchen, I'm not wildly in love with the granite used on my counters. I can't see crumbs really well because of the color. I've also been unable to find the tan twisty wire things that come on bread because of how close the color is. The dark inclusions also look too much like bugs. That said, because of the huge amount of counter space I have, replacing them with something I like better is too expensive.
The pantry is also a little small, although it is much bigger than the one I had in Minnesota. So it's a gain, but I wish it was a walk in with really nice shelving.
Also strongly in the do not like category is the scorpions. I've found seven in my house since I moved in. There are no words for how much I loathe any bug, but those are extra prehistorically creepy.
I have a formal living room that I have no use for. I'm sorry, but if I'm inviting someone to my house, they're going to have to hang out in the family room. Because I needed the space, I have boxes of my books up there plus my scrapbooking supplies. The ultimate goal is to get some screens up to block it off because the dining room is right there as is the front door.
This house is on a smaller lot than I had in Minnesota--much smaller--but it has as much (if not more) privacy. I credit my hill with that. When the house was built, they basically cut into the top of the hill. I still have a rise in land on three sides of my house, and with the trees fully leafed, I don't even know I have neighbors. The house is also blissfully quiet. I don't usually hear my neighbors either. Total win.
I also credit my hill with the lack of casual doorbell ringers. :-) You have to really want to see me to make the climb.
Great outdoor space! I have fabulous outdoor space in my new home. A nice, large covered back patio that I plan to have screened in and a good sized front porch. I had a large front porch in MN, too, but that one was square, making it difficult to consider a true outdoor space. I have a rectangle here and could actually fit chairs and a table out there if I wanted. But I've had some wasps out there, so, yeah, no.
I still hate the commute down here. I'm like twice as far away from my job as I was in Minneapolis and I hate that. I get two hours later than I used to--partly because I start an hour later, but the commute is the reason for the other hour. At least I have my van pool which saves me money, wear and tear on my car, and makes the trip faster with people to talk to.
Sticker shock. The general belief up in Minnesota is that it's cheaper to live in the South. The other truism is that Minnesota has high state income tax. Neither is true. It's much more expensive for me to live in Georgia.
*Sales tax is just about the same
*State income tax is just about the same. ($5.00 higher in MN)
*Property tax is higher and there's no property tax refund down here
*Electric is much more expensive
*Gas is at least double what I paid in MN
*Water, OMG, the cost of water down here is unbelievable. 3 times higher. What I pay for one month in GA, is what I paid in three months for MN.
*Housing is not cheaper either because I couldn't afford a house with a basement down here.
*Don't ask me about the ridiculous amount I had to pay to get license plates for my car down here. It was criminal!
So, bottom line, just like living anywhere, there are pluses and minuses. Some things are better, some worse, so I guess it all comes out about even.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
The Never Ending Move
I spent a little time over Christmas Eve and Christmas Day going through some more moving boxes. Yeah, I know, not exciting, but without my mom here to force me to do it, they would have sat for a lot longer and this did need to be done. Even if it wasn't the slightest bit of fun.
Right now, my living room and kitchen are now box free! Yea!
Of course, a lot of the stuff got dumped in other rooms. Definitely not yea for this. They are the rooms these things should be in--mostly--but now I have to make time to go into those rooms and organize everything. Sigh. More un-fun to come.
I was talking to my Mom on Christmas and I said this house could use a couple more closets and then it would be perfect. Right now, there's just slightly less storage room than what I could use. The linen closet in the hallway is bursting, I've filled the linen closet in my bedroom, and the bedroom closets are practically bursting with boxes. Garage storage is out because of bugs and how I feel about those things. I miss having a basement, although then I'd be worrying about scorpions and bugs there all the time, so I guess it's okay.
More things are missing than I realized, although I have to believe most of it is in a box in a room that I haven't gone through yet. Or at my parents' house in Minnesota because it wouldn't fit in the car. Moving might be the least amount of fun a human being can have.
Right now, my living room and kitchen are now box free! Yea!
Of course, a lot of the stuff got dumped in other rooms. Definitely not yea for this. They are the rooms these things should be in--mostly--but now I have to make time to go into those rooms and organize everything. Sigh. More un-fun to come.
I was talking to my Mom on Christmas and I said this house could use a couple more closets and then it would be perfect. Right now, there's just slightly less storage room than what I could use. The linen closet in the hallway is bursting, I've filled the linen closet in my bedroom, and the bedroom closets are practically bursting with boxes. Garage storage is out because of bugs and how I feel about those things. I miss having a basement, although then I'd be worrying about scorpions and bugs there all the time, so I guess it's okay.
More things are missing than I realized, although I have to believe most of it is in a box in a room that I haven't gone through yet. Or at my parents' house in Minnesota because it wouldn't fit in the car. Moving might be the least amount of fun a human being can have.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
At Last People Can Sit Down
My furniture is fixed! My furniture is fixed!
For those of you who haven't heard the story, I moved out of my house in MN in July and into a house in GA. I made it with just a few strained nerves and some stress. My furniture wasn't so lucky.
The most painful damage was the couch. It had two legs broken from it and that left one comfortable chair. When my parents are visiting, that's not cool.
I also had the movers smash the corner on my dining room table and they did more damage than that. Now that's fixed and so are the nicks and scrapes that they inflicted.
The broken hinge on my jewelry amoire and the giant scrape where they took off the stain and finish? Fixed!
Broken coffee table drawer, dings and nicks on my entertainment center, damage to my stereo cabinet. Fixed, fixed, fixed!
I'm so excited that my furniture looks the way it's supposed to again. :-)
Sorry about this post being late today. I forgot it was blogging day last night.
For those of you who haven't heard the story, I moved out of my house in MN in July and into a house in GA. I made it with just a few strained nerves and some stress. My furniture wasn't so lucky.
The most painful damage was the couch. It had two legs broken from it and that left one comfortable chair. When my parents are visiting, that's not cool.
I also had the movers smash the corner on my dining room table and they did more damage than that. Now that's fixed and so are the nicks and scrapes that they inflicted.
The broken hinge on my jewelry amoire and the giant scrape where they took off the stain and finish? Fixed!
Broken coffee table drawer, dings and nicks on my entertainment center, damage to my stereo cabinet. Fixed, fixed, fixed!
I'm so excited that my furniture looks the way it's supposed to again. :-)
Sorry about this post being late today. I forgot it was blogging day last night.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Organization Finds Space
I've lamented before about how hard it is for me to stay organized. I do my best, but somehow things always end up in chaos. As I was working in the kitchen on Sunday, I realized I come by it honestly. My parents are much, much more disorganized than I am.
It all started when I spotted those stands that can be used to stack dishes in two tiers. Because of the height of the shelves in my cabinets, I can't use them there, but I told my dad to put them in the pantry. He hadn't. They were sitting on the counter, taking up space, and on Sunday, I decided enough was enough. They were going into the pantry now.
To say the pantry was crammed would be understating it and I'd kind of resolved myself to not having quite enough room in there. Then I started taking things out to put the stands in and realized things were just put anywhere.
Let me state right here that I know how lucky I am that my parents were willing to come down here and help me unpack after my move. I'm definitely not complaining and I'm grateful for every box they emptied.
But to say my dad has an interesting idea on what belongs in the pantry would understate things. I pulled out vitamins and cleaner for the coffee maker and assorted other things. Since I had the pantry taken apart anyway, I decided I would organize the entire thing.
And lo and behold after I took out the stuff that didn't need to be there, put in the tiered dish stands, stacked a few cans, and put like items with like items it turned out I have plenty of room in there. So much room that there's even empty space there now. True, not much, but it's a heck of a lot more than I had before, but more importantly, I can see what I have now and find it without having to move things around.
Now it makes me wonder how much room I'll find when I reorganize my cabinets. Maybe I'll even find a place to put my toaster.
It all started when I spotted those stands that can be used to stack dishes in two tiers. Because of the height of the shelves in my cabinets, I can't use them there, but I told my dad to put them in the pantry. He hadn't. They were sitting on the counter, taking up space, and on Sunday, I decided enough was enough. They were going into the pantry now.
To say the pantry was crammed would be understating it and I'd kind of resolved myself to not having quite enough room in there. Then I started taking things out to put the stands in and realized things were just put anywhere.
Let me state right here that I know how lucky I am that my parents were willing to come down here and help me unpack after my move. I'm definitely not complaining and I'm grateful for every box they emptied.
But to say my dad has an interesting idea on what belongs in the pantry would understate things. I pulled out vitamins and cleaner for the coffee maker and assorted other things. Since I had the pantry taken apart anyway, I decided I would organize the entire thing.
And lo and behold after I took out the stuff that didn't need to be there, put in the tiered dish stands, stacked a few cans, and put like items with like items it turned out I have plenty of room in there. So much room that there's even empty space there now. True, not much, but it's a heck of a lot more than I had before, but more importantly, I can see what I have now and find it without having to move things around.
Now it makes me wonder how much room I'll find when I reorganize my cabinets. Maybe I'll even find a place to put my toaster.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Bang! Crash!
Most of my worldly goods have been up in Minnesota while I've been living in Atlanta for the past year and a half. I was finally reunited with them on Monday, July 22nd when the movers arrived at my new home in Georgia.
The reunion wasn't all that it should have been.
It started when the guys unloading the truck brought in my coffee table. It has two drawers and one of them had the front busted off. I could see it lying on the inside of the drawer itself.
Later, they brought in my old stereo console and announced they'd found it with the wheel busted off where the wood met the bottom. One of the guys Gorilla Glued it to the bottom and put in some wood screws.
But if I thought that was the worst I'd see, I was wrong. When it came time to put the bed together, my dad opened the box marked "Parts" to get out the hardware the movers would need and discovered a chair leg. As it turned out, the leg had been ripped off my sofa. My grandmother's sofa that's like 85 years old and had withstood years of rambunctious children and other insults.
As bad as I felt about the drawer and the stereo, they did not compare to the sick feeling I got when I saw this. It had to have been torn off in Minnesota because it had been sealed inside the parts box and that had been started and closed by the loaders.
How the hell do you rip the leg off someone's sofa? Seriously. Talk about a complete disregard for other people's stuff.
Later, I discovered a smudge on the back of one of my chairs, a nick in my pristine dining room table, and an odd stain (I think it's a stain) on the side of my dining room table. And I've barely begun to open boxes. I'm scared at what I'll find.
I have to say that I'm totally not impressed with the movers at this point, not with the damage and destruction they caused. At least the only thing I know that is missing is my step ladder. Hopefully, everything else made it, even if it wasn't in one piece.
Thursday, August 08, 2013
The Agony of Moving
I'm writing this ahead of when it's posting because of moving and deadlines and what not.
Today, the movers came with my things. I had six guys in MN who loaded the truck, but only three in Atlanta unloading it. They worked fast, though, and now my house is full of boxes.
No lie. There are boxes EVERYWHERE!
But let me back up. So I was told the movers would arrive between 8am and 10am. They give the window because of traffic. In MN, they had a shorter window (8am to 9am), but then things aren't as spread out in Minneapolis and traffic isn't nearly as bad either.
The movers arrived around 9:45ish. They asked me to get my car out of the garage. As I'm backing up, I managed to hook the garage door release cord with my car antenna and pulled the door down. I stopped immediately as the door starting going back down and went forward. The door seemed jammed and it was forced up for the move.
Maybe that was an omen for the day. There was damage. It was like a carnage wreaked upon my furniture. Details in my next blog post.
Oh, the one piece of good news. I didn't break my garage door. It worked normally when I closed it, and opened it again, and closed it once more. Testing it out, you see.
Today, the movers came with my things. I had six guys in MN who loaded the truck, but only three in Atlanta unloading it. They worked fast, though, and now my house is full of boxes.
No lie. There are boxes EVERYWHERE!
But let me back up. So I was told the movers would arrive between 8am and 10am. They give the window because of traffic. In MN, they had a shorter window (8am to 9am), but then things aren't as spread out in Minneapolis and traffic isn't nearly as bad either.
The movers arrived around 9:45ish. They asked me to get my car out of the garage. As I'm backing up, I managed to hook the garage door release cord with my car antenna and pulled the door down. I stopped immediately as the door starting going back down and went forward. The door seemed jammed and it was forced up for the move.
Maybe that was an omen for the day. There was damage. It was like a carnage wreaked upon my furniture. Details in my next blog post.
Oh, the one piece of good news. I didn't break my garage door. It worked normally when I closed it, and opened it again, and closed it once more. Testing it out, you see.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Hello New Home
Saying goodbye to my old home was hard--I loved it so much--but it enabled me to move forward and have a home in Georgia. I found the house relatively quickly on my hunt--I thought it would take me forever to see something I liked. I closed on my new home July 19th. Yes, one week after I closed in Minnesota.
As I'm writing this, I've had my house a little more than one day. It doesn't feel like my home yet. It's not too surprising, I guess. If I remember correctly, my house in MN felt strange in the beginning, too. Plus, the movers don't arrive with my things for another two days.
The week between closings was hugely hectic. I don't recommend closing on two homes 1100 miles apart in 1 week. I was scrambling to get utilities setup right up until the day before the closing. I wasn't 100% successful. Comcast can't come out to hook me up until 2 weeks after I closed. That's right, as you're reading this, I am WITHOUT INTERNET in my home! Gah!
Let me introduce you to my new house.
As I'm writing this, I've had my house a little more than one day. It doesn't feel like my home yet. It's not too surprising, I guess. If I remember correctly, my house in MN felt strange in the beginning, too. Plus, the movers don't arrive with my things for another two days.
The week between closings was hugely hectic. I don't recommend closing on two homes 1100 miles apart in 1 week. I was scrambling to get utilities setup right up until the day before the closing. I wasn't 100% successful. Comcast can't come out to hook me up until 2 weeks after I closed. That's right, as you're reading this, I am WITHOUT INTERNET in my home! Gah!
Let me introduce you to my new house.
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
The Lost Is Found
Another blog written in
Minnesota: Last summer or early fall, I lamented the fact that my high school
yearbooks had been lost when I moved into my house in 2006. I'd been through
every box in my house, preparing for a move to Atlanta and they were nowhere to
be found.
Or so I thought. The lost has
been found!
I'd been so sure they were lost
forever, but as I was moving boxes from the center of the basement to shelves,
I saw a box that didn't look right. I thought everything in this area was
clothes, but this box wasn't a clothes box. Curious about what was in there, I
lifted the lid and found my yearbooks.
I don't know how the books got
mixed in with the clothes, but I'm just grateful I found them. I kept very few
things from high school, but the yearbooks were special and had signatures and
well wishes from kids I'd gone to school with. Their (supposed) loss bothered
me constantly and I'm so glad they're not lost forever. Also in the box were
the other missing books on psychic phenomena, but those were replaceable if I
really wanted them.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
How Much Is Enough?
I've been living in two cities since January when my job officially relocated to Atlanta. To explain, most of my stuff is still up in my house in MN while I'm in Georgia with only some of my things. Until I can get my house ready to sell, close on it, and find something down here, this situation will continue. It's stressful, time consuming, and expensive.
One of the interesting things, though, about this experience has been being separated from most of my stuff.
The big thing is that I haven't missed most of it. That's enough to give one pause, isn't it? How much of what I have am I keeping out of inertia or because I spent money on it? How much do I really need to move down here?
Oh, there are definitely things I miss--my big television (not as big as most people's TVs, but big enough for me). Watching baseball on the 19 inch set I brought down with me is passable, but lacking. I also miss having a DVD player down here. Not the recording part of it. I never record anything because I never watch it. Ever. But the only DVD player I have is on the laptop and it's just not convenient to stop doing stuff while I watch a movie. (I also miss some of my DVDs that I left behind.)
I miss some of my books. When I was pruning my book collection, I was reminded of old favorites and I want to reread some of them. Many of these titles are not in ebook, and if they are, priced too high.
I miss my desktop computer. Unfortunately, that's the machine to which my iPod is synced, so I can't load new music. The desktop is an iMac, the laptop is a PC and that's the problem. I could go on about the technical issues here, but I'll spare y'all. :-)
I miss my computer printer. I miss my reference books. I miss my bedside lamp. ( I know; weird thing to miss.)
But for all things things I wish I had down here with me, there are 10 other things that I haven't given a thought to since I left. And that's what has me wondering if I can get rid of some that without regretting it later. I've already donated something like 30 boxes of stuff to various veterans groups and I've donated (so far) 2400 books to the local library (not a typo), but can I get rid of more? It's made me think.
One of the interesting things, though, about this experience has been being separated from most of my stuff.
The big thing is that I haven't missed most of it. That's enough to give one pause, isn't it? How much of what I have am I keeping out of inertia or because I spent money on it? How much do I really need to move down here?
Oh, there are definitely things I miss--my big television (not as big as most people's TVs, but big enough for me). Watching baseball on the 19 inch set I brought down with me is passable, but lacking. I also miss having a DVD player down here. Not the recording part of it. I never record anything because I never watch it. Ever. But the only DVD player I have is on the laptop and it's just not convenient to stop doing stuff while I watch a movie. (I also miss some of my DVDs that I left behind.)
I miss some of my books. When I was pruning my book collection, I was reminded of old favorites and I want to reread some of them. Many of these titles are not in ebook, and if they are, priced too high.
I miss my desktop computer. Unfortunately, that's the machine to which my iPod is synced, so I can't load new music. The desktop is an iMac, the laptop is a PC and that's the problem. I could go on about the technical issues here, but I'll spare y'all. :-)
I miss my computer printer. I miss my reference books. I miss my bedside lamp. ( I know; weird thing to miss.)
But for all things things I wish I had down here with me, there are 10 other things that I haven't given a thought to since I left. And that's what has me wondering if I can get rid of some that without regretting it later. I've already donated something like 30 boxes of stuff to various veterans groups and I've donated (so far) 2400 books to the local library (not a typo), but can I get rid of more? It's made me think.
Thursday, May 03, 2012
And Then I Hit Fiction Part 3
Some last thoughts on pruning my book collection (see previous 2 blog posts). I mentioned that I had more than 5000 fiction books in my collection. I cut more than 2600 books out of my library. I know if I'd had more time and could have done a second run through, that I would have culled even more.
In my previous posts, I talked a little about the emotion involved. About how difficult it was for me at first to part with a title and how that changed. I didn't expect to feel a lightness over shedding the books.
I do have an answer for part of it. My TBR (To Be Read) pile (and I use that word tongue in cheek) was over 1000 books. Let's face it, I was never going to read all of them, but I'd bought them and I couldn't get rid of them. So they sat there, quietly chastising me with their presence. I couldn't just give them away, right? I mean, I'd paid for them, they had to be read.
But everything changed with the move. Now I had a reason to get rid of them unread—I can't take all my books to Georgia. Getting rid of so much of the TBR pile was freeing.
While reducing the TBR drastically leads logically to lightness, I haven't figured out why getting rid of books I already have read gave me that feeling. And it did because I noticed it before I conquered my shelves with the unread titles. I'm still mulling that one, but maybe it was simply a matter of reducing stuff?
In case you're wondering what I'm doing with all the books, I'm donating them to the Hennepin County Library. They'll sell them and raise money to fund their programs.
This is the library system that I grew up using. It's thanks to the Hennepin County Library that I was able to go in and find dozens of books on sharks, Mars, becoming a writer, and all the other topics that interested me as a child/teen. It's a combination thank you and a gift to the future. I hope some other eager-to-read kid can find the same welcome, the same wondrous portal to information that I found.
So if you live in the Twin Cities, you might want to keep an eye on the library sales. My books are in pristine condition and some of them are hard to find. Yeah, I know I could have gotten more selling them online, but sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet and let it go.
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
And Then I Hit Fiction Part 2
This is part 2 of my task of pruning my fiction books. For part 1, please see last Thursday's post.
Going through my boxes of books was hard, really hard, but as the hours/days went on and I could see the boxes that were going versus the boxes that were staying, a funny thing happened. I started to feel lighter. I didn't have to own every book an author had ever written (unless she was one of my special authors). I didn't have to own every book in a series, whether it be by one author or a continuity series with many authors.
I could keep only the books I loved!
It was a good feeling and I started to be tougher on which titles I was holding on to. I also made a second pass through the Maybe Box and got rid of more. I also added more to the Keep Box, too, just so y'all don't think I suddenly went all Viking invader on my collection.
And then, on Day Four, I reached the shelves.
This was its own special problem. When I'd moved into my house six years ago, my To Be Read (TBR) pile and my keepers got jumbled together. It got worse when my mom put the books on the shelves for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful she did it because I was on deadline at that time, but she didn't know that Jayne Ann Krentz also wrote as Amanda Quick and Jayne Castle and Jayne Bently and she didn't know that I kept all these books together.
The bigger problem, though, was my mom didn't know which books I'd read and which ones I hadn't. I never crease a spine when I read—I'm anal like that—so they all looked brand new. This became a huge issue for me as I went through the bookcases. Did I not remember a book because it was forgettable? Or did I not remember it because it was part of my TBR pile?
You're thinking: Look at your spreadsheet, idiot. J That didn't help. Some books that were keepers, but that I'd read in the early days, had no rating attached to it. Was I parting with an old friend I'd merely forgotten and would regret losing? Or was I looking at a book I'd never read?
The new rule of thumb was to read the back cover. If I had no memory of it, and if it didn't sound like something I wanted to read now, it went. Nearly every historical romance I stumbled across was put into the Go Box. I used to read historical, but now I have zero interest in those titles. Books I knew I'd bought new and had never read also got put in the Go Box.
And ran across old favorites.
Usually, I remembered them as soon as I held them. The story would come back to me and I'd want to re-read it right there and then. I resisted.
I also rediscovered a few favorites. There was one I looked at and had no memory of the cover or that I'd ever read this author before—until I read the back cover. I didn't make it through the first paragraph before I was like OMG! I loved this book! How sad that it was lost amid the 5000 other books I owned.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
And Then I Hit Fiction Part 1
On Tuesday, I talked about culling books from my non-fiction collection. Today, I'll talk about my fiction library.
Since the day I started buying books, I've almost never gotten rid of one. I have a distinct memory of turning in some books at a Used Book Store (UBS) in the Twin Cities and turning around the next weekend and rebuying some of them. Yeah, I am an Obsessive Book Hoarder and topping 5000 books proved that.
There was no choice now, though. My employer is only paying to move 12,000 pounds and books are heavy. Since I need things like furniture and bedding, a deep cut was necessary.
I started with the boxes. I had 48 boxes of books and I figured if I didn't have the title on my shelf to re-read, it was a candidate to go. All the titles (more or less) are in a spreadsheet I have, so I worked with that open on the table in front of me. This wasn't too much help on the early boxes because I didn't start recording my thoughts on the books I'd read until later.
The rule of thumb here was if I read the book blurb and had no memory of the story, it wasn't a keeper. There was one problem with this method, though. I was tempted to read some of these books. They sounded interesting.
Other books surprised me with how dated they felt. The time travel books were particularly susceptible to this. What was fresh in its day, now seemed overdone. I kept a few special ones that I remembered fondly, but the rest went into the Go Box.
I make this sound simple, so cut and dried, but it wasn't. I'm emotionally attached to my books. This has lessened from its peak, but it was still an issue for me. A lot of titles went into the Maybe Box.
There were authors, too, that had written some books I really, really, really loved. When I read a book that hit for me on all levels, I would run out and start hunting those authors' backlists. I had to have every book they'd ever written. Not all of them were as awesome for me. I had to accept that I could keep the books I loved and get rid of the ones that didn't pass the threshold.
The spreadsheet became handier when I started rating the books. In the early days, there were only number grades. 7 out of 10 was what I expected from an average book. Having a number grade made it easier because I was able to see what I thought of a book and get rid of it without reading the back cover. No temptation that way. :-)
Later, I began adding comments in addition to ratings. This was a double-edged sword. Like back cover copy, it tempted me to re-read the book I was looking at. Some of them anyway.
I didn't reach the shelves until the fourth day.
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