The Sidetracked Sisters' Happiness File

A few years ago I picked up a book, The Sidetracked Sisters' Happiness File - a retro (daren't call it vintage, 1985 is my my birth year) productivity/life management book by Pam Young and Peggy Jones. I bought it because the index card housekeeping system laid out in their previous book Get Your Act Together taught my slattern self how to keep house for the first time ever; perhaps index cards could sort the rest of my life too?

When the Happiness File arrived, I worked through the first few exercises before losing interest, left it on the shelf for a few years and finally donated it. It's a good book, I just wasn't in a place to do the work. I was all about minimising and simplifying at the time and naively thought that I wouldn't need to actively manage my goals and productivity, especially with a cluttery index card collection - everything would just slot into place when the stuff was gone, or I could use a simple, trendy bullet journal.

I was wrong, almost as wrong as the blusher on their cheeks. Is that a print error or is that just how the eighties rolled?
 
This year it's become clear that I need a life management system and so I bought another copy of The Sidetracked Sisters' Happiness File. I thought I'd share it because the first couple of exercises are useful even if you aren't working through the whole book.
 

To Be, To Do, To Have

Grab a cuppa, set a timer for an hour and write 3 lists of everything you want to be (i.e. more organised, fitter, a better listener); to do (learn to dance, read more, go back to school) and to have (a more flattering wardrobe, a dog, a cottage by the sea). Write it down, no matter how impossible it may seem - and under each want, write a few reasons why you want it. This helps you identify authentic desire from the 'shoulds' - if you can't think of 3 good reasons, then you can probably discard that goal for now.

The rest of the book explains how to put these goals into action using an index card file, however I think it's a useful exercise in itself.
 

 

 On My Mind

 

On a fresh sheet of paper write down everything that is playing on your mind, from 'we've run out of milk' to 'i'm late booking my dentist check up' to 'climate change is going to kill us all'. Literally anything that is on your mind. It can be overwhelming on the first round depending on how messy your life and mind are but if you repeat it regularly the lists get shorter as you are able to tick things off. 

My list is currently overwhelming. I let a lot of things slide when I was depressed over winter and I had a 3 month long respiratory infection that floored me - I have a lot to catch up on, as well as all those big changes I want to make. My list is several pages long and I'll probably add more - but now it's all down on paper, I can think more clearly and calmly. My mind is no longer swimming, perhaps just going for a paddle.

Today of all days

Remember this:

I opened up the news yesterday afternoon and was greeted with horror unfolding in our capital city. I felt so sad, then mild panic - are my people safe? And of course I jumped down the rabbit hole of live news feeds and twitter updates.

After about twenty minutes I stopped myself. What good was this doing? What can I do here, 100 miles away?

I can feel the sadness, I can check that my people are safe; I can be aware of my surroundings and learn what to do in an emergency.

And then I can go out and be as good and kind a human being as I can be; and influence my kids in the same direction.

I hope you're all home safe with your people.

A word for 2017

Have you come across this concept? As an alternative to (or a guide for) new year's resolutions, you choose one word that represents everything you want your year to be. I'm late to the party as we are well on our way to spring, but this word has been my guide for the past two months:

'Very beautiful or attractive, pleasant or enjoyable', as the Oxford English Dictionary puts it. Delightful, even. 
 
'Lovely' loomed large when I sat and thought about what I wanted my year to be. It came out of nowhere, through the melee of worthiness that had been swirling my head - 'sustainable', 'parenting', 'learning', 'kindness', 'serenity', 'conserve', 'thrift', 'prepare'.  I resisted - it sounds so vacuous, trifling, in a year so topsy turvy as this one.

But try as I might I couldn't shake 'lovely' from my mind.

Flowers (freesias!), wilderness, kindness, emerald green, puppies, pumpkins, serenity, quilts, stripped wood, simplicity, jewel colours, vintage pantry cupboards, ducks, kitchen gardens, happy children, words, the Romanian language, 'enough', white space, small houses (small, perfectly formed things in general), homemade preserves...

The mental list of things I find lovely ran on and on, as did the tally of things that I find decidedly unlovely, the things that I turn away from - ostentation, unkindness, cruelty, intolerance, dingy colours, beige, waste, clutter, plastic... One of those lists was more pleasant to focus on than the other.

And so I have my guide for a better life this year - a simpler, greener, lovelier life. The pursuit of loveliness can guide my behaviour, my parenting, my decor, my gardening, my making and mending. For a natural pessimist, it's going to be tough, but rewarding I hope.

What will your word be for 2017?

Early riser

Not one, but two children found excuses to climb into bed with us tonight. I woke up groggy and grumpy the second time around and snappishly dispatched them back to their beds. I regretted my lack of maternal kindness instantly; and my mind set about recounting all of my parenting failures over the years, rattling through a few potential catastrophic outcomes, before settling on pension plan ruminations. It was time to get up.

A few years ago I got into a routine of waking before everyone else, completing a few important tasks, and generally starting my day on a good footing. It was a way of carving out some quiet time for myself, a truly simple pleasure. Restless children have put paid to that and sitting here today at 5am, it doesn't feel like a golden time of possibilities and productivity. I'm tired and scared to make a sound in case I wake someone. Still it has reminded me of what I am missing. I would like to get back to rising early.

I cannot control my children waking, but there are things in my sphere of influence that I could be better at. More exercise and fresh air during the day, less caffeine (and none after 5pm), and less evening screen time are a solid prescription for a better nights sleep. I will complete my important tasks each day, and write a brain dump list for the rest to give my overworked brain some respite. I will try a gentle routine to ease me to bed - a warm drink, a (real, hardcopy!) book and perhaps journalling of some kind. I will try to turn the lights out by 10pm.

And just like that the sun is up, and so is a certain threenager. It's going to be a long day.

Filter bubble

I suspect that 'filter bubble' might be crowned the phrase of 2017 (unless 'alternative facts' continues its early streak that is).

Unfortunately, I wasn't taken unawares by the sentiments revealed by Brexit, by Trump, by the rise of the 'Alt-right'. The girl that would read shampoo ingredient labels on the loo because she forgot to bring reading material grew into a woman with an internet connection. I've seen corners of the internet far darker than the much reviled Breitbart. I hop from link to link, and surface hours later, usually deflated and anxious.

And so 2017 is my year of the filter bubble:

• News and opinion - I will check the headlines a couple of times a week. That is as much news as I can realistically use.

• Books - More books focused on issues I have a real interest in. This is a better way to stay informed and make educated decisions than chasing trends in a quagmire of daily news - and the rabbit holes will be gentle tumbles instead of freefalls, as I wait patiently for my inter-library loans.

• Blogs - I'm going to return to reading blogs daily. They used to be a source of inspiration and encouragement. A prune of my Feedly subscriptions, and they shall be again.

• Reddit - I have a curated subscription list of great subreddits - r/simpleliving, r/leanfire, r/anticonsumption and r/declutter come to mind. However the temptation is always to check the front page or wander into r/all - and the racism, misogyny, misandry and political mudslinging add nothing to my life. If I find myself wandering out of my favourite subreddits, then my Reddit account will go.

• Social Media - I deleted my Facebook app months ago, but still find myself checking in several times a day since I quit work. I will reduce this to once a day. No twittering for me. I've recently spent some time of Instagram; and I like it. I follow beautiful, inspiring stuff and it is easy to avoid the rest. Once a day use will be a good thing for me.

I've taken 'news diets' before, but this new regime is a lot more comprehensive. I haven't cut myself off from the world completely, but I am not immersed in a stream of information that my brain cannot use. It's no different to letting go of excess possessions, to rejecting unthinking urgency in favour of slow and considered. One week in and I'm feeling less despondent about things; my brain freed up to think about other things - like the life and world I would like to work towards, as opposed to the one I want to rail against. A filter bubble can be a beautiful thing, use it well.

Crafting a new daily routine

How we spend every moment is how we spend our lives. So many people focus on the big picture stuff - and those things affect the overall ark of our lives. But the small stuff, and how we conduct ourselves in the moment is who we are and how we will be remembered. If I continue as I have for most of my adult life, I will be remembered as an odd clash of slobby sloth turned martyr drudge who is terrible at keeping in touch. I've made progress, but I have a way to go.

I may have only worked a three day week for the past ten years, but freeing up those days has made keeping on top of the house and five competing schedules so much easier. It's not forever, but I want to make the most of my new found freedom; and a written routine helps immensely with that.

My barebones, daily routine is unchanged. This includes the things that if neglected, snowball into much larger problems and workloads. If I do nothing else, these things must be attended to:

• Breakfast
• Feed cat and rat
• School drop off
• Wash and dry one load of laundry
• Empty bins
• Lunch 
• School pick up
• Dinner
• Wash up and wipe down kitchen
• Pick up downstairs floors 

In addition, I try to accomplish a few other things each day:

• Put clean laundry away
• Clean bathroom sink and toilet bowl
• Prepare uniforms and packed lunches for the following day
• Weekly/monthly/seasonal chores

If these tasks don't get done, the chaos builds up slowly, not catacylsmically. There's plenty of room to catch up, as long as things aren't left for too long. I've started to make a list of chores and tasks as I encounter them, and I decide in the moment how frequently they need to be completed - and slot them into my routine as required.

My daily routine takes care of the basics, ensures everyone is fed, clothed - but precious little else. It's important to schedule in some fun, some rest, some time for learning, some time for important relationships, some exercise. These are all things that I know I tend to neglect at my peril - some of them are guilt inducing. But martyrdom is not a good example to set to my children. It passes down the generations like a terrible gene, ready to be activated by any fleeting joy; and so I'm making a concerted effort to ensure that I set a better example with each new day:

• Write journal or blog
• Daily reading for relaxation
• Reply to texts and messages (maintain friendships!)
• Get out of the house
• Learn something new and life enriching 
• Take time for simple pleasures

With my days taken care of, I also want a nice, predictable rhythm to my week - a day to devote to paperwork and admin, a day to devote to errands and shopping; and a dedicated rest day all improved my life in the past, but shiftwork got in the way of that . I would also like to fit in some socialising, volunteering or community work too. It's important to have moments in the day to look forward too; and some bigger things in the week to work towards.

My simple living

This time of year, as the wheel turns once again, always finds me reflecting on where I have come from and where I am going. 

A long time ago on a blog far far away, I wrote a few posts about a seemingly unresolvable conflict between my desire to be burdened by less stuff; and my desire to be burdened with a smallholding, or at least a self-reliant, ecofriendly lifestyle.

This was before the Konmari craze, before minimalism was all the rage, before even the tiny house movement had really taken off. It was also long before I had quit making excuses for why I had no bedroom for most of my childhood and fully acknowledged that I was the child of a hoarder and had some issues with 'stuff' and 'home' stemming from that. I just had a niggling feeling that consumerism was gross; and I wanted out.

There are several simple living 'tribes'. There's the urban, all-white sparse apartment minimalist. There are the ones living out of one backpack with a laptop for company, passport in pocket. There are the tiny house dwellers, and the minimalists for whom the simple life is an aesthetic or a number. They are all united by a desire to simplify their lives by streamlining their material possessions, their responsibilities and their interactions with the world - and they often outsource a lot. And then there are the radical homemakers, the frugal folk, the smallholders, the back-to-the-land and the prepper types. They aren't so big on outsourcing, instead bringing the essentials of existence in-house.

I've always belonged to the simple living community - 'live simply, so that others may simply live' gave me chills the first time I heard it, and it became one of my guiding mottos ever since. But I didn't really feel like my life was simple. My life was still overflowing with stuff and responsibilities - and I was looking to add more. The examples out there in blogland were that you needed a lot of 'stuff' to live a self-reliant, green lifestyle. Thrifted, handmade or not - it's still stuff. And there I was, trying to make sense of it all, surrounded by half-finished knitting projects and half-read gardening books. 

Fast forward 6 years and we've let go of around two thirds of our stuff - I've whittled my personal possessions down to around a tenth. Whilst outwardly it appeared to be a question of 'stuff' it was actually a question of values; and with each round of decluttering, if became easier to see what was important. I was able to let go of all of my disparate ideal selves - the bookish smart-arse, the textile artist, the organised super-mum, the gourmet cook and free up all of the space they were taking up in my house and in my head. All that remained was the essential.

When the time comes, hopefully, my simple life will involve spending a lot of time in my much bigger garden tending as many plants as I can. It will involve shelves of full kilner jars, bags full of oca, garlic braids and ristras put up for winter - I value homegrown food, beautiful gardens, healthy soil and getting my hands muddy. The house will be small, minimally furnished and easy to look after - I don't prize good housekeeping as a value in itself, domestic goddess I am not. The waste stream will be minimal, the outflow of produce and solar power and seedlings maximal - because I value the earth and living lightly on her. There will be DIY and preparedness and the security that comes only from having an established herb spiral - because I do value self reliance and security. There will be opportunities to pay it forward too - because I value service.
 
Right now, that isn't my life. Instead I need to balance keeping my eye on the prize whilst living those values in the here and now.

And so my simple living currently has the five of us living in a rented two bedroom terrace house - partly for budgeting reasons (gotta save that deposit somehow), and partly because whilst a better layout and more partition walls would be nice, more square footage wouldn't be. I clean enough already. My simple living doesn't allow me to add more square footage, more outgoings, more trinkets to collect dust.

My simple living allows me to accommodate my husband, who whilst nicely decluttered, is not a minimalist. It allows me to coexist with my kids, who love their Lego's and random plastic crap; and it implores me to try and help them develop a healthy relationship with their stuff. It doesn't allow me to assuage my parenting guilt by buying them more stuff or packing their schedules full.  

My simple living allows me to keep a bag of outgrown kids clothes until they fit the next one; to keep a full pantry (of stuff that we will actually eat) and to make small batches of jam or wine. It allows me to have mismatched furniture and brightly coloured, simple decor. It allows me to keep a handful of crochet hooks and a ball of cotton on hand for when the mood strikes. It doesn't allow me to pursue every craft at once, keep a yarn stash, have multiple projects on the go, or keep many of the potentially  useful things that come my way 'just in case'.

My simple living allows for a single large drawer of well chosen clothes and a small bag of toiletries. It also allows me a disproportionate number of dangly earrings, because they make my heart soar for reasons I can't quite explain. It doesn't allow me to follow fashion or to curate perfect capsule wardrobes built on exploited labour; or to build my identity around looking a certain way.

My simple living requires that I sit and wait for the things I 'need' to replace to show up in charity shops and on eBay, because I value thrift and because I know that there is very little I truly need to get by.

I still have a long way to go; but I'm OK with that, because the route is now slow and scenic. And if I never make it? I still will have lived a good enough life, living my values.

I hope you have a very happy solstice. Here's to the return of the sun.

Changes

Ten years ago I took on a 'stop-gap' job with the company I had been temping with. Yesterday, ten years and two months later, I finally handed in my notice.

Our childcare situation was becoming increasingly precarious, the office increasingly toxic - it was time to go. I don't have another position to go to, though I have already begun applying. I'm lucky that I could take this step without it financially ruining us, and that it was voluntary.

I've done this before, this isn't going to be much different to being on maternity leave, but it still fills me with a little panic. I lived through a financially precarious childhood; and I think its those stomach churning memories that have kept me in my 'safe' job for so long, when everyone else was moving on up and out.

Income is of course only one part of the equation. After a certain level of income that pays for the basics, time really is money. I've been surrounded by people in dual income households who spend almost one whole wage on childcare, transportation, the cleaning lady and convenience foods. They don't have time to shop around for value and quality, and they have certain external 'standards' that they have to maintain to play the part. I'm free of all that.

From here on in, or at least until I find other employment, I will be applying those extra 30 hours a week to squeezing the pennies until they squeal. I'm going to do some volunteering to build my CV; and I'm going to look for more satisfactory employment. I might even blog a bit more frequently too! 

Ms Independence

The youngest youngling started preschool this week. She is the youngest to start out of the three of them, not yet three years old - but good god was she ready to start. I haven't been enough for her these last few months. No amount of playing, reading, play dough, park trips, play dates or Peppa Pig episodes have filled up her tank.

I've been telling Mr PL for months that I was going to just sit quietly in the house for 7 hours that first day, just to wonder at the silence, and reacquaint myself with my own thoughts. I ended up spending that first day with a sinus infection, so close enough.

She cried for 30 seconds when I left her for her first session, had some water, and then she never looked back. My last baby, suddenly independent and needing time away from me. I cried for 3 minutes, made myself a cuppa and pondered my aching face; and looked back frequently.

For two days a week, I've regained my freedom, my independence from the role of mum. In the past 8 years, I have had precisely 36 consecutive hours to myself, and I found myself working and sleeping for most of that.

This new, quiet thing is novel; and I don't know how to use it. I have plenty of ideas, 8 whole years worth of stymied projects and ideas; and no clue how to realise them.

But at least I can hear myself think about them, for two days a week at least, which is nice.

A walk in the woods

We took a bank holiday Monday trip to the Forest of Bere - beautiful, mixed woodland with patches of heathland; light airy glades puncturing deep dark wood. The closest you can get to wild in the Southeast.

Paths large and small wind through the wood; and though hundreds of people were there, we were alone for a good part of the trail we chose.

We found beetles and toadstools, cobnuts and orienteering markers.

The relative silence was a welcome break after 6 weeks of school holiday in the city. Everyone seems to be out and about, or holding barbeque's. I  could happily stay a few days in the woods, setting up home in one of the stick dens built by the kids adventure clubs. 

And then, as legs grew tired and midday approached, the whining started up. It wasn't just ours, it seemed that all the kids in the forest started to whine in a crescendo, like songbirds. Really whiny songbirds. It doesn't help that the first thing they see as they enter the woods is a purpose built adventure playground. Anything after that is just a mission to return to the playground, nature be damned. 

We had our picnic; and then made our way home to this:

Some days I can't envision myself ever leaving this city. Today is not one of those days.

Curb my enthusiasm

We're into the final fortnight of the summer holidays; and today I've found myself wishing that term had started already. Do you know how many arguments siblings can have over lego, even when working on separate kits, from separate instructions, at separate ends of the dining table? Many, many arguments.

I have a DIY list as long as my arm and a pile of admin to boot; and none of it is getting done. In a small house with everyone home 24/7, the regular chaos is building up quickly too. I'm overstretched; and I have only my over-enthusiasm to blame.

As if the unpapered walls and semi ripped out kitchen weren't reminder enough, The Husband delivered another reminder of what overstretch looks like to the doorstep this morning. The man of the house is at least getting stuff done, and blitzed the garage this morning, where he found 15 buried bottles of mediocre, 2012 vintage rhubarb wine.

A few years ago we began to make our own wine and beer. After a few small batch successes, we decided to scale up production to provide us with all our booze and to give away as gifts. What was initially a fun hobby that could be picked up as and when time, space and gluts allowed, became a chore. Sterilising, filling and corking 40 bottles of wine at a time isn't fun, especially if the batch isn't a great one. I overstretched, became overwhelmed; and gave up a fun, frugal hobby altogether.

The most productive I've been today was the 15 minutes I spent uncorking, pouring and rinsing those bottles; and after the initial blast of angst, I began to feel OK. I've overstretched myself in the past - its a habit, it would seem. I've overstretched myself once again. I have three small children and a aprt time job; there is no need to do all the things. In two weeks, I'll have a lot more free time to deal with the mess that I have created and until then, it's not worth losing precious, restorative sleep over.

Also, I need to use a planner.

Keep calm and carry on

This morning I cleared out the paperwork drawer that I've let fill up over the past few months. Over half of it would have taken 30 seconds to deal with when it came in to the house - my new rule is going to be that if it takes less than a minute to deal with, I will deal with it there and then.

During the purge, I stumbled across this, which in the glaring absence of anything resembling a plan from our esteemed leaders, might be the most useful roadmap we have for the next few years. Beware broken lines:

I think we can expect a bumpy ride for everyone in the working and middle class. The pound has slumped and may settle lower than it is now, which is not good news for the consumers of a country that is currently a net importer of food and other essentials. Pensions and savings have taken a hit. Those with debts should take the opportunity to throw everything at reducing them whilst interest rates are low. Our debt free day was one of the happiest days of my adult life and I wish that for everybody.

I'm doing everything to muster my most organised, upbeat and thrifty self - she who slacks off a bit during the good times, and often even more so when times are less than stellar - to keep the budget on track. I've organised the paperwork and finances. I 'm writing new meal plans. I have furniture to paint and gardening to do. I want to start running. In short, I have plenty of thrifty, healthy stuff to keep me occupied at a time when its probably best to keep occupied and not worry too much.

I'm also taking time to enjoy the satire that is flowing from every side of this debate, which seems a much more British way of dealing with things than the hate fuelled 'debate' that's also underway. We can look forward to Charlie Brooker's Review of the Year.

Life goes on - with much less certainty, less prosperity in the short term at least, and a hopefully  temporary rise in extremist rhetoric. But it does go on. Nobody on either side can truly tell what the long term impact will be. The only productive course of action is to work for the best and prepare for the worst; to focus our energy on the things that we can control or at least influence; and to keep an occassional watchful eye on the rest.