Confirming and Affirming My Decision to Move

23 Monday Feb 2026

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

You know what it’s like to finally FINALLY have a chance to catch your breath? Where there’s not a single appointment on your calendar and absolutely nothing you have to do, even on your mental To Do list? That gap in the day where you almost hate to take a nap because you’d be wasting free time?? Me either! I’m not there yet, but I do think I’m getting closer. And that’s my goal – to have those days, maybe even once a week. To slow down a bit, to simplify my life, not just declutter it and keep things clean. Not even to be one of those Ladies Who Lunch. Just to pick and choose what to do today, guilt-free. Last week was not that week.

Let’s Have a Meeting

Meetings get a bad rap in the workplace, but they can definitely serve a purpose, especially if you have a plan. I started the week with a visit to my would-be home seller to try and formalize our agreement that I would buy her house when she eventually moves to be nearer to her family. You see, in order to buy her house, I have to sell mine. In order to sell mine, I have to get it listed on the local real estate market. In order to list my house, I have to get it not just decluttered-so-my-kids-don’t-have-to-someday but decluttered-and-depersonalized-and-sparking-clean-ready-for-a-photo-shoot. In order to get my house ready for prospective buyers, I have to get a few little things fixed up, such as repairing the door frames where a dog has clawed or chewed a piece; such as the light bulbs all being the same “temperature” so when they’re turned on the house looks warm and charming, not like a strobe light on its way to burning out; such as repainting the outdoor light fixture over the garage door that has bugged me for a year; such as adjusting the cabinet door that is loose, etc. You get it, right? The timeline is too loosey-goosey, and without a target date, I was feeling too much in free fall. What if she decided to not sell, or at least not now? What if she decided to list it and go for the highest bidder? What if she wants me to be ready to write a very big check?

Luckily, the big stuff at my current house is all in order, like the roof was reshingled last year, the water heater was replaced about 3-1/2 years ago, the heat pump was replaced about 5 years ago, the garage door opener was replaced about 2 years ago. In that sense, I have a pretty good idea of what things cost, if they have to be replaced at the next place. But it’s those little details that will consume time and could be easily overlooked if I was rushed to get ready. Yet, I don’t want to be ready for 6 or 10 months, if you know what I mean.

Getting the Ball Rolling

So we had a meeting. She had a friend there to advocate and look out for her interests. I also had a friend who could be an extra set of eyes to scope out things I might have overlooked. It was productive and very amicable. The end result was we agreed that she may want to get her attorney involved but won’t get a realtor involved (read: commi$$ion), although I will likely have a buyer’s agent. To get this ball rolling, she will contact a reputable real estate appraiser to guide her in setting an asking price, which we have not discussed at all yet. Once she has a decision made, then the ball drops into my court to make an offer. I can then decide if I want to have a home inspection done now or make an offer contingent upon a home inspection. This I could use as a basis to make a counteroffer, or depending on her ask, to determine what things I might want or need to be addressed (termite inspection? water spigots or outlets or light fixtures don’t work? wobbly railing tightened up? etc.). She still does not have a definite date in mind yet for her move but she did find an assisted living facility she wants to move to; she’s on a waiting list for an apartment to open up. We agreed that I will not list my house until she confirms her move date. She, too, needs time to declutter and pack up. So I won’t end up houseless. She is also willing to give me access (for a fee) for a month or so after she leaves and before I move in so that I can have carpet replaced or walls painted, and things like that. All in all, I went away feeling very good about our meeting.

Checking out the Competition

An Open House

As it happened, I had gone to an open house for a place for sale just up the street from this house the day before our meeting. I am doing research on comparable houses, for both money and floor plan. The house I want is a 2-bedroom; this open house was a 3-bedroom. The floor plan didn’t grab me, and I was glad to hear there was already an offer submitted. But I did meet a woman there who bought a house with an identical floor plan to my future house, and she was willing to give me a peek at what she has done. That really affirmed my vision for what I could do to customize “my” house. I was extremely satisfied that my choice is the right one for me.

A day or so later, I learned from a neighbor that a house four doors down from my own current house was going on the market. Again, main-floor living, which is what I want. But I want to downsize and simplify, not just find a place with a primary bedroom suite on the first floor. I think. If it’s the right deal …. right?!? Another day goes by and a For Sale sign goes up. Lo and behold, so did another house two streets over. I decided my realtor is going to earn his buyer’s agent commission!

Same Street House

The first house, the one right on my own street, looks good from my driveway. But the goodness ended there. The closer I got to the front door, the less appealing it was to me. Stonework was failing, and the mortar was missing or sitting on top of some of the stones on the facade. The stair railing had a bit of give. The floors inside had several soft spots, and if I had had a marble, I am sure it would have rolled around on some uneven floors. Trim work was missing around the attic access panel, windows had failing insulation strips, and the carpet was stained. There was a ramp in the garage, and the railing seemed to barely capable of staying upright. The house was also quite dated, which is not a deal breaker for me because I would probably want to put my own touches on it anyway, but the formica counters had scratches and slice marks, and the vinyl flooring was cut and curled here and there. Golly gee! I was thankful that my “other” house was not in this condition. Confirmation ratcheted up a notch. On to the second house.

2 Streets Away

This house had a bit of an incline in the driveway, so my first thought was, “I would never be able to back my camper in here,” followed by, “I wonder if my old car (a 2008 Sebring sits low) could clear this grade?” Then it had four or five steps to the front door, which I also would be happy to not have. Inside, though, this house was a keeper! Freshly painted, carpet replaced in the past year or two, kitchen updates, and a charming back yard off the sunroom. The layout was something that would have appealed to me greatly years ago. The thing was, it would be a lateral move, meaning I would just be swapping square footage for a different layout so my bedroom wouldn’t be upstairs. I don’t need or want three bedroom and three bathrooms. I don’t want or need a bonus room over the garage. I don’t want or need the price tag either. If this house had been available when I moved here 13 years ago, I would have scooped it right up, but not today. The seller’s realtor said she had back-to-back showings all day, and I was happy to hear it.

I drove away thankful not only that I have first dibs on the other house, but quite grateful that my choice was again affirmed. Sure, I have had my doubts from time to time whether I can really go from a 4 bedroom to a 2 bedroom, or that I can give up my rather large backyard for a much smaller one with no deck, or that I will be okay with a single tiny linen closet instead of the three I have now, or that I will not mourn the loss of my perfect big desk and bookcases in my soon-to-be-non-existent-office. But in the end, I keep coming back to the other house, the coziness, the welcoming vibe, the openness, the chance to start anew.

Doing The Work to Get Ready

I got to that place by doing “the work,” as it’s called, to mentally prepare for the downsize event. I completed the worksheets given out at the Downsizing Event program The Memorie Group has sponsored. The first one started with Embracing the Mindset of Change and Assessing The Current Living Situation, went on to Finding the Perfect Home, and Planning the Move Strategically. I also completed a Clarity Audit from an Uplevel Your Life program I participated in about 10 years ago. The first question I answered was “If you could wave a realistic magic wand, where would you like to be 12 months from now?” And then the same question for 2 years out. This audit went on to ask me about things I “tolerate” about my life, things I put up with, that bug me, that I don’t do anything about even if I could. I made lists of things I want to do more of on a daily/weekly/monthly/yearly basis. And then I wrote out what my Ideal Average Day would be like, and what my Ideal home/community looks like. I had a fairly good idea by the time I went to see these houses of what I was looking for and could tell pretty quickly what wasn’t there.

The Mental Leap has been Achieved

My confidence keeps growing that this is the right thing for me to do, and it’s also the right time and right place. If it turns out that I can’t make the deal I want for my preferred new home, I am still making changes in my current house that will sustain me for a while. I will assume that there is an even better place being made ready for me. In the meantime, I can fix the things that I tolerate, I can paint the walls if I want, I can buy new furniture, I can dream up new goals. I’m pretty good at carrying out plans once I get them written down. This whole downsizing experience, while still in the early stages, has resulted in some great fringe benefits already. I acknowledge more the life I have and the way I live it. I appreciate the feelings of certainty and generosity I get when I can drop off another box of books or dishes or decor at a place someone else can enjoy them. I experience excitement and anticipation just from looking at beautiful pictures of possibilities for the next chapter I’m entering.

The Move Book is Coming Next

I’ve started a Move Book, where I keep all my notes related to .. yes .. this upcoming move. Next time I’ll tell you about it. If you’re tiring of not being to put your hands on a post-it note or scrap of notebook or back of an envelope where you’ve jotted down a number or name or idea, maybe you’ll appreciate another way to consolidate these things. Til then, happy planning and decluttering!

Progress Report, and it’s exciting!

16 Monday Feb 2026

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Most of us have been dealing with a lot of winter lately, and here in Virginia, the ice and snow have lingered. It feels like a Groundhog Day moment back to 2020, the year of Covid quarantines. However, not everything is negative. Like during Covid, I enjoyed movies, fireplaces, good books, and homemade soup. I also did some housecleaning and decluttering. Here’s what I’ve accomplished in the past two weeks.

Books.

I donated another box of books to the Friends of the Library, bringing my total to 6 boxes with around 20-30 books each. It may seem like a lot, but I have 7 bookcases. Even after this donation, I still have only one empty shelf. However, I did incorporate 2 large tubs of Native American pottery my brother gave me and rearranged some items to balance the look. I’m keeping one shelf completely empty to motivate myself. Most of the books I’ve donated are non-fiction professional development titles from my career. What I still have includes old photo albums, oracle and tarot cards, journals, travel books, and reference materials. My goal isn’t to get rid of all my books, just to refine my collection.

Kitchen things.

I went through what I call my Tupperware cabinet, although there really isn’t any Tupperware in it. It’s a huge assortment of plastic storage containers. I got rid of anything with that melted look from the microwaving you’re not supposed to do anyway, or the ones stained from red pasta sauce, and the ones without lids or where the warped lid and warped bowl no longer work together. I kept the glass containers (better environmentally as well), and since I don’t do much cooking anymore, I let go of many that I won’t have use for. Really – does one woman who doesn’t cook need 3 dozen 1-2 cup containers?? I also donated my Pampered Chef mandolin that tried to eat one of my fingers and has not been used since the very first time, and a set of cute 1-cup bowls that were still in the box. I liked them so much, and they were on sale back in the day, so I had bought 2 boxes of 10 (yikes! what was I thinking??), and the second box has just been gathering dust. And no surprise, I had a cabinet section dedicated to coffee mugs, but no more. I kept the ones that fit on the hanging rack on the side of the cabinet, and the rest went in the donation box. I still have quite a few, but really don’t need the one from the insurance agent or the conference I went to or the one that was left from a matched pair that was too heavy for everyday use; they are pretty as pencil holders but when it’s heavy before you fit it with hot liquid, and my hands suffer from a little trigger finger, I decided to be reasonable. I let go of almost a dozen of those.

Glass decor.

I have (had) a lot of my pretties, as I call them, displayed here and there, including on my bookcase shelves. I refined the collection of amber glassware in particular. I started a fascination for amber swung vases a few years ago, but that led to other types of amber glassware – candy dishes, plates, bowls, vases, nightlights, etc. I decided to keep the swung vases, one plate, and two candy dish-type pieces, and the rest can go. A few seasonal items like a pumpkin shaped cookie jar, a Christmas themed covered jar, and the like went in the donation box, too. I hosted Bunco for the neighborhood women last week. My hostess gift to them was a donation table set up in the living room. Everyone was encouraged to take something – anything they wanted – and almost everyone did. What’s left is now ready to be boxed up, no more deciding to be done.

Estate Planning.

So I’ve been making my lists and checking twice. The next thing up was to get the “adulting” done. I met with an attorney, had a new Will drafted, created a Trust, and for fun, a Power of Attorney and Advanced Medical Directive. When you live solo, as I do, it’s easy to put things off. I put them off for over 10 years, since my husband died. I kept telling myself there was time to attend to that business, but never got around to it. Until now. Last week I signed my new estate planning documents. My kids were supportive and helpful and willing to do whatever I wanted them to in terms of serving as executor or attorney-in-fact, and such. Fortunately, they are all doing well and have stable families of their own, so I didn’t need to go down Morbid Avenue and select guardians for them, nor fuss that one was going to need more than another, or worry about being equal v. being fair. This fit my downsizing plan in the sense that I was downsizing my worrying load. Plus, it had the added benefit of opening the sometimes awkward conversations about mortality and possessions and life in general. It’s not a cheap endeavor, and I had to invest a few short-term dollars for long-term peace of mind, but I am so relieved to have that done.

The Downsizing Program element.

I used Richard Campbell, a local attorney I met through the Downsizing Event sponsored by The Memorie Group. From introduction to draft to final signing, was less than a month. All my questions were answered, but it’s a lot to digest, so I was very grateful to get summaries of what to do – for me as well as my someday executor/trustee/attorney-in-fact. And bonus: he’s young enough that he should still be around whenever I kick that proverbial bucket so he can help my kids execute my plans. The Downsizing program has introduced me to many valuable resources for making my life easier, even if I wasn’t planning to move. The somewhat structured plan walking me through the various elements of making a significant life change has been very beneficial. It’s not a list of things to do in order; it has offered me a way to think and process these changes, as well as pointing out the options I have, and then guiding me toward progress, not just completion. The decisions are all mine, as is the timeline, but when you are staring at the abyss, it’s reassuring to be able to lay all the puzzle pieces on the table and see the big picture through my own eyes.

My Future Home.

And then some exciting tidbits of news came my way about the house I have been interested in. The owner has taken her first couple of steps toward making this happen. She went to visit family, found a possible future home for herself, and has started to divest herself of at least one of her collections. Another neighbor put their home for sale, and I went to that open house yesterday. Luckily for me, the house already has an offer pending, so no chaos ensued to distract me from my tentative plans, but here’s the thing. I got talking with another visitor at the open house turned out to be the new next-door neighbor to the open house house, and has the very floor plan in her house that is the same as the house I’m interested. I ended up getting a tour of her house,too, and my enthusiasm was elevated a notch or three! She has done great things, and I could see the potential that I envisioned come to life. Not only that, but this new owner has a daughter who lives in our neighborhood and who may be interested in my house!! Wouldn’t that be something?!? The owner/mother said her daughter has been walking the neighborhood and expressed a desire to live on my street but definitely wants a bigger house since she now has a baby (maybe a second child, not sure) and two dogs (so fenced yard). Mom is going to talk to daughter about my house. And I may have made a new friend in the process. On the street I would maybe be moving to. The stars are aligning, and I couldn’t be happier about this turn of events.

I can see it from here!

It’s energizing to not only see the flywheel start to move, but to actually feel that I’m gaining momentum. All the drudge work of touching each and every one of my things, from books to extra spatulas and plastic containers, to decorative vases and bowls, to clothes I don’t wear any more, and then making a decision to Keep, Sell, Donate, or Trash every one of them is overwhelming, tiring, boring, emotional, and time consuming, adds up to exhausting for me. So the little wins like finding inspiration in someone else’s home, or getting support from friends who aren’t yet tired of my whining about how long this is taking and how far I have to go yet, means a lot to me. I still have my daily chores to attend to, like vacuuming, walking the dogs, taking the trash out, emptying the dishwasher, grocery shopping, laundry, etc. The 40 Things in 40 Days list I made is very useful to keeping me moving forward. But the checklists I got from Silver Sherpa at The Memorie Group have been invaluable in establishing a proper mindset from the get-go. Coupled with the support from a live person to talk to, it’s exponentially more valuable than reading a book (or a blog post, but I hope you’ll keep reading anyway!). All the other times I have relocated have been primarily propelled by the need to start work at a new job in 2-3 weeks. Now I am propelled by the strong desire to start an enhanced lifestyle. If you’ve any advice to share as I am on this journey, please don’t hesitate to share!!

To begin, one must begin!

02 Monday Feb 2026

Posted by in Connecting the Dots, DOWNSIZING, Making progress, SIMPLIFYING, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

As you might guess, my mind has been zipping and zooming around with the idea of downsizing and moving. When? Where? Ugh! The very thought of packing and schlepping and relocating is… ugh. I have moved A LOT in my life, so I know what’s involved. In fact, the longest time span I’ve had the same address in my entire life is at the house I’m in now. Moving every 5-8 years tends to result in a natural sort of purging. And always, I’ve had kids and/or a husband to help make decisions, test out choices, and literally, shoulder the burden (or carry boxes, as the case may be). But I was determined I would do this on my own terms, while I had options, instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop and the choices being taken away from me.

October raced by, and then November was here. I had yet to sit down and put my thoughts on paper and release them into the Universe. In between doctor appointments and making travel plans for the dream trip I was about to embark on, I felt I was already stuck on the hurdles and not at all enjoying the prospect of a fresh start with a simplified lifestyle. I had put the handouts from the October class away in the desk, and true to form, it was out of sight-out of mind for a while.

Then I got a little Divine assist. An email showed up in my Inbox, offering to join a beta group of people to help the sponsoring partner of this program develop a Silver Sherpa component. This sherpa would be a guide, an accountability partner, a sounding board…exactly what I needed! I wanted to take these ideas and do something with them, but I was treading water, feeling a little overwhelmed by what I hadn’t done instead of what I could do going forward. Of course, I immediately responded that I was interested, and to my surprise, I was selected as one of 10 participants.

The Ultimate Checklist for an Exciting Downsizing Adventure

The November class was coming up, and I would get more information then. Sure enough, I got The Ultimate Checklist for an Exciting Downsizing Adventure. Ten steps for making this journey work for me instead of against me.

  1. Embrace the Mindset of Change
  2. Assess Your Current Living Situation
  3. Create a Downsizing Timeline
  4. Declutter with a Purpose
  5. Organize Finances and Documents
  6. Find the Perfect New Home
  7. Engage the Right Professionals
  8. Plan the Move Strategically
  9. Get to Know the New Community
  10. Celebrate the New Adventure.

The concluding sentence on the brochure made me realize I had chosen the right way to do this. It read “Downsizing is not just about letting go – it’s about making space for a vibrant, new chapter.” I made a commitment to myself that I would do this intentionally, with thoughtful planning, professional support, and an open heart. I was going to make this a step forward, not a step back or down… in fact, I was going to get rid of steps literally in my very house, so that I could make the rest of my years (of which I hope there are many – at least 20 or 30!) more livable, fulfilling, and carefree. At least in terms of maintenance and in-home safety.

Thinking before Acting

I started to share my thoughts with a few close friends, and my kids. I didn’t actually have a plan but was forming one. That first step my Sherpa talked about – the mindset – was the key to me being willing to not only embrace the idea but to build momentum and then execute the plan I put together. I’m one of those people who is really keen on understanding the reasons why and having things make sense to me, to fit my truths based on past experiences. One of my favorite expressions is from Neale Donald Walsch, author of Conversations With God. It is: “The only reason to do anything is as an expression of who you are.” And so I talked about my options and ideas, and I tried to keep them in the context of Who I Am and how I wanted to be. For example, I think I am a generous person, and so donating some of my things instead of selling them, fits my definition of generosity. But some things do have a monetary value and I’m also not a fool, so for things I sell, it is important to be fair and not greedy. Defining one’s sense of self is a time-consuming but rewarding experience for me.

After a lot of contemplation, it was time to create the working plan. I am making my list(s) and checking it twice. I’m also bouncing around and rearranging the pieces a bit, as I simultaneously schedule appointments with an attorney, realtors, and friends. I’m touring new homes and visiting friends with alternative floor plans in different communities. I’m piling up donation items I come across while gathering documents and organizing files. I’m going in circles, but it’s not quite a merry-go-round, it’s more like a moving sidewalk.

As you know, I made up what I thought was going to be my To Do checklist. And I made an inventory of sorts of my current belongings. I found a potential next home for me, and I played with the floorplan to help me solidify in my mind what I would keep, sell, donate, or trash. And that’s all well and good. But that house is not yet for sale, which means I can play with the timeline and take it easy. Or so I thought.

40 Things in 40 Days

I heard a rumor that the homeowner of my possible next home was out house hunting. Maybe this is really going to happen sooner than I thought!?! I made another list last week: 40 things in 40 days. Forty spaces in my house that need decluttering or sorting and organizing… or packing even. It includes the following – which is not an exhaustive list by any means. For instance, it does not include things that need to be done to get my house ready to list for sale. It’s just my attempt at making my decluttering plan more realistic.

  • The Tupperware cabinet (which always needs sorting and organizing)
  • The bookcases (I have 7, and only do 1 at a time)
  • Office closet (folders, binders, boxes old phones came in, cords for electronics, etc.)
  • My closet (again, always needs help to keep manageable)
  • Kevin’s closet (since he died, it’s become the upstairs mini-garage of tools, vacuum cleaner, suitcases, construction leftovers from bathroom remodel, Christmas wrapping paper and boxes, Costco toilet paper, paint, etc.)
  • Guest room closets (seasonal bedding mostly)
  • Pantry in kitchen (for expired food and that which I just don’t eat – like stale cereal)
  • The china cabinet (dishes, as well as table linens)
  • Under the kitchen sink (’nuff said!)
  • Shelves in the laundry room (large appliances like bread maker, extra cleaning supplies, dog bath stuff, etc.)
  • Dog stuff in garage (I foster dogs, so have LOTS of excess for various sizes and genders and breeds)

Anyway, you get the idea. Some spaces will take 10 minutes, others will take 10 hours! I’m happy to report I’ve already donated 4 boxes of books to the Friends of the Library and my neighborhood Little Free Library, and I have one more box packed and ready to deliver. I have agreed to let a friend try and sell two boxes of glass decor items, and I have one more box packed and ready to deliver to her. I have got one large bag of clothes and shoes from my closet, one large bag of lap quilts and couch blankets, and one box of kitchen decor items ready to be picked up by our local D.A.V. tomorrow. Oh, and so far, it’s still just a rumor about “my” house being up for sale…

Me or Them?

For years, I’ve rebelled against the decluttering trends and resisted doing the Swedish Death Cleaning to make the lives of my kids easier whenever I do cease to live in this realm. I’ve always felt that I should live my life for me in the present, and not for my kids for someday. I’m not the kind to be afraid of doing something that maybe “someday” will make it difficult to sell my house because some mysterious future buyer won’t like a purple bedroom. But I do admit that there is a deep feeling of satisfaction to be doing this for myself – and not just because I might be downsizing and moving this year or someday, but because I am in the mood to simplify my life. That means easing up on what I spend my time cleaning and dusting and rearranging, or looking for when there’s too much to go through, or having space for a new treasure I’ve found out in the wild, or freeing up money for travel or whatever.

I don’t remember who said it, but some author wrote about writing that to begin, one must begin. And wherever this project leads me, I have begun. Someday it might actually be writing that book, but for today, it’s about simplifying my life so that I can be more of who I want to be, doing what I want to do, and having all the feels along the way.

Out of Order – but not like you think

19 Monday Jan 2026

Posted by in DOWNSIZING, Making progress, SIMPLIFYING, Tips and Tricks, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, ,

Until you understand everything, this might seem confusing. But it makes sense to me. I’m just trying to catch up. Things aren’t happening in the order I expected, which I guess would be too easy. It’s not a straight timeline, as one thing leads to another, and I’m figuring it out as I go—with some help from my guide and support from my friends.

Anyway, I’m making progress. Here’s what I’ve accomplished in the past few days.

  1. Made an appointment to get a new Will, Advanced Medical Directive, and Power of Attorney.
  2. Talked to one banker to see if I can qualify for a mortgage now that I don’t have a job or a spouse with income. I’m living off a pension and Social Security, plus a small draw from my IRA. The answer is yes, but this isn’t a prequalification; it’s keeping me from going off the rails. I have another call to another banker scheduled for next week.
  3. See below since I can’t figure out how to keep this list going and add a picture at the same time!

I made a floor plan of a neighborhood house I like. It’s not completely my “ideal” house, but it’s got great potential. No way is this settling; it’s reality and it’s exciting. I measured a lot of my furniture and tried to see what might fit. This will help me figure out what to keep and what to let go of, since I don’t have the option of buying first and selling second, or moving in and seeing what fits before I make decisions. The house isn’t on the market but the owner is planning to move closer to family in the next few months, and a new home search for her hasn’t been started yet. We’ve talked a few times, and this might be the next place for me.

  1. (sorry for the List feature again!) To make the floor plan, I had to visit the house and measure all the rooms. Then I had to translate my notes to graph paper. For fun, I made copies and then used color pencils to pretend I had painted each room. Twice, since I want my bedroom purple and not green like it is now. I think that’s what I want … for now. Plus, I drew the furniture to scale but not the floor plan, so when the couch took up a room and a half, I had to start over! The idea is to help me get a clearer picture of what I can or should or want to keep, and what would be “left over” and possibly sold or donated. This was advice from a professional organizer and a friend who went through this whole transition last year.

I made a list of my furniture using Excel while measuring it. This assumes I will buy this place, but either way, I have a good start on my inventory. Now I can keep track of what to Keep, Sell, Donate, or Trash. (Note: experts say that “very little is actually trash. Most of what you have can be used by someone, unless it’s broken beyond repair.”)

Inventory List

And I updated a Checklist I started a month ago of all the things I need to do to make this transition happen. The decluttering, the getting organized and related paperwork that grown ups should do (will, etc.), selling this house (market evaluation and readying it for sale), buying a new house and making it a home (home inspection kinds of things), and so on. If you want to see my full checklist, just ask.

  1. (Here’s the stupid List feature again!) I bought three shelving units for the garage and put them up, and then put stuff on the shelves. Yes, I used a friend’s help to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid like climb attic stairs while carrying Christmas decor out of the way. Then I threw out a few things (yep, broken), and I also tried to set some things aside for donation. My friend, good woman that she is, didn’t let me get by with just setting them aside. They were promptly loaded into my truck. The next day I off-loaded them at a local Habitat for Humanity ReStore (and got a donation receipt for tax purposes). And I updated my checklist of things to do, plus marked the progress in decluttering. Yay Me!
  2. I attended a workshop put on by my friendly Silver Sherpa’s office, The Memorie Group, on … guess what?? Yes! Decluttering and dealing with The Stuff. This included talks by a professional organizer and a couple that specializes in selling your Stuff, whether high-value collectibles or regular junque you’ve accumulated… and figuring out the difference between them. The main themes of the Professional Organizer were: (a) Plan; (b) Sort and Declutter; (c) Be Respectful; (d) Consider the New Space; (e) Pack and Move; and (f) Expect Post-Move Adjusting. The process followed by the resellers is: Review, List (pricing and photos), Monitor, Sell/Negotiate, Box/Ship, Approval, Pay. Of course, there’s more to it than this, so when I take this step (with or without professional help), I’ll tell you more. Here’s the main take-away: Sometimes the Market will disagree with you on some things. LOL. This means, your stuff isn’t always worth what you think it is. (And I think, “the Market” includes family and friends as much as it is buyers with money to spend!)
  3. Finally, I visited a former neighbor who sold his house last year and moved into an assisted living facility. He was very encouraging and shared some of the resources he used in his transition – like where the books went, who he used for a real estate appraiser, the moving consultant he hired, and a friend who helped curate the artwork he found in boxes when cleaning closets (which were painted by his mother and they then reframed and hung in the new apartment).

That was my week. I feel good. Except for the format of this post!! I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong, so I’ll add fixing this later to my To Do list!!! I still feel productive, though. And I feel responsible. I feel like I should be doing this even if I decide to stay put, for one reason or another. I feel it’s doable, and I’m doing it! This week I have an appointment with an attorney about estate planning. Not quite an “oh, joy!” thing, but necessary.

There you have it. Until next time, happy decluttering if that’s what you’re doing, or happy relishing that it’s me and not you who is doing this right now.

Navigating Life Changes: Downsizing!

16 Friday Jan 2026

Posted by in DOWNSIZING, SIMPLIFYING, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

SOME BACKSTORY

Ten years ago when I quit my job, I intended to find other work, something new maybe, probably somewhere else, but I didn’t know what or where or when. I hadn’t lived here a full year yet when my husband died unexpectedly. I debated moving “back,” but I wasn’t sure where that was. Back to South Dakota? That job wasn’t available any longer. Back to Minnesota? Sisters and friends, but those long, harsh winters?? I actually applied for a job there but changed my mind before the interview was over. No, thanks. Back to New Mexico? Been there done that, but I’d be near to my youngest son and his family. But I’m liking the trees and water and East Coast access to things. To California where my other two children live with their families? Earthquakes, wildfires, traffic, cost of living?? No, but thanks anyway. To Ohio, where another sister lives? She calls it the Armpit of the Country, which I don’t necessarily agree with, but again, winter, and sort of random. I thought, if I’m going to go somewhere random and start over, I might as well stay here and avoid the hassle of moving. For now. I gave myself a year to figure it out.

LIVING SOLO + RETIREMENT = ?

Fast forward ten+ years, and I’m still here, still not working (except for some infrequent consulting work or temporary gigs to make money for travel or another specific purpose). This is the longest time in my entire life I’ve had the same address, and I’m liking that my roots have gone a little deeper – as opposed to going wider every other time I’ve moved to chase my career or make better choices.

I’m still solo, and more single than I was – meaning I believe a new widow is still married for a long while when she’s grieving, but now I’m actually enjoying my new lifestyle. I have adapted to my life as an occasional mom, grandma, aunt, and sister. I volunteer as a dog foster mom, am active with my local HOA board, and help out with the annual Christmas Market. I’m a friend, taking plenty of time to tend to relationships with those I’ve met over the years who live far away. Believe me, I am eternally grateful that we no longer pay for long-distance phone calls!! I travel, I shop, I read, I walk, I talk.

Did I mention I shop? Thrift, consignment, antique, and the occasional boutique and full-on retail department stores. I think I’ve filled the void that was caused by suddenly living alone with stuff. Old stuff, new stuff, big stuff, little stuff, collections of stuff, and just stuff stuff. It’s fun, it’s creative, it’s interesting. It’s a cheap thrill most of the time. I’ll bet some of you can relate to the thrill of the hunt! And in a house with empty spaces, both physically and metaphorically, it’s not problematic. And it’s definitely not hoarding, lest you are concerned for my mental health!! I admit, though, a house has regular and annual and aging-parts maintenance need$ that take up a significant amount of time.

INTERRUPTED BY A MYSTERY HEALTH CHALLENGE

Then a couple of months ago I had my first big health scare, the root cause of which is still a mystery. So for months now I’ve had to go to doctors and submit to scans and ultrasounds and blood draws, even a biopsy (benign, thankfully). When the medical profession and insurance hacks fail me, I’ve consulted Dr. Google and ChatGPT regularly to help me understand what might be going on with my body. All I know for sure is that something is out of balance, and since I don’t know what, I feel vulnerable. Trust me, this kind of thing got my brain working overtime. Like a Mexican jumping bean, I have bounced around the concepts of Days Numbered, Lost Independence, and Better Do It Now.

CHOOSING TO SIMPLIFY

Memorie Group
My primary resource for Downsizing

The result is that I’ve recently volunteered to become a beta client of a new program in town, one in which a “silver sherpa,” a kind of senior’s life coach, helps you prepare to change your lifestyle through planning (and motivation) for downsizing, decluttering, organizing, simplifying, and acting on the idea of The Next Thing – the next place, the next way of life, the next version of you. I’m finally ready for that. I want to make the necessary choices about who, what, when, where, and how while I can still do that – and do it the way I want. You might think I’m still young (only 67) to be thinking about these kinds of major shifts, but the way I see it, it’s a process, and a fairly long one at that. I planned to give myself another year to clean house, to think about my options, to let go of stuff, to prepare myself mentally for a smaller house but a larger life. As you might guess, I’m already off to the races! In other words, it very likely won’t be a year-long process for me.

I invite you along on my journey. I’ll share about the sherpa program, the Downsizing Event program I’ve been attending, my thoughts, the detours, the process. If you get anxious to know more and more quickly than I push out my posts, it’s Ben Munson at the Memorie Group here that I’m working with.

Women & Mothers

07 Wednesday May 2025

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

DISCLAIMER: this is NOT a male-bashing commentary. It’s about living now when the times have changed and are changing.

It was a sign of the times: the men were the ones out front, publicly acknowledged, in charge of it all. Women were still supposed to be subservient, obeying their husbands, in the background, weighed down by a lot of social expectations. My mom, Elsie, was one of those women. She was “the Mrs,” not always having an identity of her own.

In 1960, pre-Kennedy and Camelot, pre-Civil Rights, pre-women’s movement, pre-The Pill, already the mother of two (in two years), my mom delivered a third baby, a boy. He was named Greg. And he died when he was just two months old. It was pneumonia, and in a single day’s time, life as we knew it changed. Greg was buried in the St Mary’s Cemetery in Bird Island, Minnesota, where both sets of my grandparents would someday be buried, many aunts and uncles and other family members and both of my parents would be buried. He was the first, tho.

There was no money for a headstone, I suppose, and he was a baby, so maybe he didn’t even warrant a full upright marker. He had what we called a footstone, and it was placed at what would eventually become the foot of my dad’s mom’s grave. I don’t know but I guess they had a family plot because grandma and grandpa and three of their four sons are all in the same small area.

Greg’s footstone has his name prominently displayed, followed by an equally prominent declaration that he was the son of Mr. and Mrs. LOUIS A WEYER. And then 1960-1960. Ever since I can remember, that stone has irked me. It just never felt right. Even though I was brought up in the same way as all my cousins and my friends were, meaning No Questions Asked, no explanations necessary, he includes she, and the men were the absolute head of the family. I wondered about that stone a lot over the years.

A year later my mom had another baby, a boy again, and two years after that, a girl came along, and three years later, another girl. My mom hardly had time to grieve, and although it wasn’t something we talked about, we always knew we had a brother Greg who had died as a baby. I was only two years old when he died, and I don’t remember that, but I do have a few memories from when I was maybe around 4 of my mom sitting in the kitchen near the window and crying. Just staring out the window and looking so very sad. That look never really left her. And I think I always felt a bit sad myself because of it. (I know I was about 4 because every time a baby was born, we moved to a bigger house, and I remember which house this happened in.)

My mom wasn’t the only one to lose a baby. It was much more common then than now. I had four other aunts who had lost babies – stillbirths, an illness, a cancer to a twin. And my mom herself had suffered the loss of one of her sisters in childbirth, and her own mother had a twin baby not survive a birth. Today we would probably think she had a built-in grief support group, but back then, I’m not so sure this was women talked about. I asked an aunt about this, and that’s what she told me – they just didn’t talk about it much.

As it happened, about 15 years later, my parents divorced. You know how it was then. Dad moved on and remarried within a year, and my mom had five children to raise. Plus she survived cancer…back when the Big C was usually a quick death sentence. In fact, she was told she had 6 months to live in 1978, and yet she didn’t die until 2002. She never drove a car (except that one time she nearly caused great bodily harm to my dad while he was gopher hunting), so she walked everywhere, year round. She supported herself and her kids with jobs as a short-order cook at a few local restaurants, cleaned other people’s houses, took in ironing and baked bread, and eventually did what she knew best – day care in her home. All five of her kids graduated high school, and while I went into the Army after high school, I eventually graduated college. My four siblings also all went to college. We aren’t some rags-to-riches story from a mom who saved dollar bills in a cigar box, but we all became self-supporting, socially conscious, and a strong family unit. We gave her 13 grandchildren. We still vacation together and some of us talk daily to each other, although we live in three (soon to be four) different states.

When my mom died, her headstone was carved to give her maiden and married names (she never remarried), and it reads “mom and grandma to many.” One of my dad’s brothers offered to let us have his plot for mom, which would place her near to my brother. But the cemetery (or the Divine) messed that up, and she is many rows away, although in the same section of the cemetery. Interestingly, she is next to a woman who was one of her high school friends, and across the road within the cemetery from where mom’s side of the family is buried – grandparents, aunts and uncles, etc.

So if I’m counting (which I’m not), it’s maybe been way more than 20 years that I’ve been seriously bothered that my mom’s name is not on my brother Greg’s marker. When my dad died, now 11 years ago, his urn was interred next to my brother. I loved my stepmom of 35 years, but I’m glad she was buried in her hometown and not next to my dad and brother, when my brother’s mother was not specifically name nor in close proximity.

I contacted the cemetery and asked about how to get some changes made. I’ve probably called them three or four times in the past ten years. I kept rationalizing that my mom must have agreed at some point to what Greg’s marker read, but I realize that she probably wasn’t even asked. And she never commented on it over the years that I knew of.

In today’s times, though, 65 years later, women are once again being diminished politically and socially. This time I’m fully aware of the impact. As a “senior” (and a widow), I am facing the double whammy of becoming invisible…waiting to be seated at a restaurant, having to insist on an appointment to have a vehicle issue checked out, asking the doctor for an explanation… you maybe know how it is.

So today, a few days before Mother’s Day, I’m taking one more step to balance the scales of justice. I have ordered a new footstone for Greg’s grave. It’s going to have my mother’s name on it, not just my father’s Mrs (especially since there were two of them!). And it will include is date of birth and date of death, so there will be an awareness that he had a family who had loved him for more than just a minute, that he was with us long enough that we were all changed because of him (those details are another post, if not a book). And he was his own person intrinsically, albeit a baby, not just a possession of his parents.

Then and soon to be

I like cemeteries. I visit my family at St Mary’s almost every time I return to Minnesota. I think they are peaceful places. And it forces me to slow down and consciously remember the “residents” – and me when they were here. Ironically, when my husband died, I did not inter his urn or remains in a cemetery; his ashes were sprinkled in places he loved, like Gettysburg and the Chesapeake Bay and a duck blind in South Dakota. I want to be cremated myself. I don’t think that placing bodies in boxes in vaults six feet under the ground is the best use of Mother Earth. It makes me pause to think there is no single place that people can come to remember me, so I need to come up with a solution for that maybe.

I don’t know if cemeteries will survive all the changes happening in the world. But for as long as St Mary’s is around, and as long as I can get there, I’ll stop by. And I’ll make sure to tell Greg about all he’s missed in my life, and that he knows his mother by name, and I’ll let Mom know she is remembered as Greg’s mom, too.

Times Like These

02 Thursday Jan 2025

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

At my age, which is not old but I can see it from here, the things I can’t do seem to be gaining ground. Mostly that seems to be limited to things I need expert help for, but I’m worried the day is coming when it will be “regular” stuff, too.

For example, I can still manage to hook up a camper and drive it a few thousand miles, but I had to call for “real” help when the black tank cracked. I can mow my own yard and mulch the leaves- when I can pull the cord with enough strength to start the engine. I can paint a wall but what used to take a day now takes a few days. And I’ve been ordered by friends and family alike to stay off of ladders. It’s frustrating to have to admit to myself that I am not as independent as I’d like to think I am.

Today I tried something that should have been relatively easy, quick, and painless. I bought a new toilet seat that will give me a rise of about 2″ when sitting; not much, but I won’t have to plop down, and getting up should be easier on the knees. It’s not really for me, it’s for a friend (and friends like her) who recently found herself in the embarrassing situation of not being able to get up from the throne by herself, at someone else’s house for an evening, and she had locked the bathroom door, so calling for help was not the first thing she thought of. Fortunately, after what seemed like a long enough time for the others waiting to give her a ride home, she was able to engage her core enough to stand and lean on the sink for leverage. But I have lived in a house that had the higher commodes, and admittedly, they were useful for me even back then.

So today was the day I tried to put it on. First, you have take off the current seat. Which has probably been in place for 20 years. No kidding. One side loosened up quite nicely. The other did not loosen. At all. The side against the wall, naturally. I hunted down a pliers and eventually a wrench when finger-turning produced no results except a scraped knuckle. Interestingly though, between me trying to loosen this bolt and fitting between the commode and the wall, I jiggled the toilet enough that the water line started leaking. By leaking, I mean spraying water everywhere. Onto the wood floor. I extricated myself from the small space I was in, on my side, then to my knees, to get up and get a bowl from the kitchen to catch the water. I tried to turn off the water supply, but that knob was also on so tight I couldn’t get it to budget without a few cuss words. And even so, it continued to drip. A lot. I got a bigger bowl.

By now, I have emptied the bowl three times, and it probably needs it again. I just do not have the strength or dexterity or leverage to tighten anything under there. I am wavering between being royally ticked off and frustrated, and being deeply saddened by the fact that I am almost old.

I called a neighbor who I have shared names with for electricians, painters, handymen, etc. I have names of two plumbers from her, one with an * by it, but I don’t know if that means “good” or “bad.” She said it was good, so I called him. Wouldn’t you know, it’s still holiday season, and he’s out of state. He referred me to someone else, and I left a message but no return call after a half hour. I look out on my street and there don’t seem to be any cars belonging to capable strong people who could help me out.

So I called my “handyman” guy, who isn’t really a handyman; he’s a carpenter. He tiled my bathroom shower, laid flooring in the hallway, installed new patio doors, and attached an antique fireplace mantle to a wall for me. I asked him for a referral to a plumber or true handyman, but when I told him I had water dripping, he said he would stop by himself and see what he could do. He’s at another job, so it will be a few minutes. And now I understand why tradespeople/subcontractors sometimes take longer than you think is necessary to get a job done. They take calls from stressed out people like me. And come to their aid.

In years past, I have painted rooms, moved plenty of furniture, planted and transplanted bushes and flowers, put together a crappy metal shed, laid both brick and flagstone sidewalks, replaced a garbage disposal, rewired lamps, put together furniture that came packed in a box, cleaned out gutters, dug holes using a post hole digger, replaced a toilet wax ring, and put a deadbolt lock on a door. I own tools that aren’t just screwdrivers; I have a multi-purpose tool, an air compressor, a sander, a saw or three, a sledgehammer, and a cordless drill, among others. I know how to use them all, some better than others. Turning a damn threaded nut on a bolt should not be a big deal.

It’s time like these that make a woman like me think twice about having a man around on a regular basis. Luckily, I can still just buy their time when I have an emergency. Because any man I might be interested in might also not have the physical strength that I don’t have, nor the necessary agility or dexterity or stability required.

The good news is that things like this have happened often enough in the past couple of years that I don’t always cry as my first response to the frustration of times like these. Now, I have to go empty the bowl again.

More (Stranger) Things Than These

30 Wednesday Oct 2024

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

Disclaimer: I am not familiar with the tv show Stranger Things, except I know there is one. I know little about Shakespeare, except I know some of the quotes from having lived long enough and gone through enough English classes and seen enough movies to remember some of the more popular ones. And yet, what comes to mind today is that there are more stranger things going on in my world than I could dream up.

The Shakespeare quote actually goes “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Which I interpret to mean that our imaginations are powerful but limited given our upbringing and environment. Therefore, angels, spirits, and ghosts are real, even if I haven’t been trained to believe in them and don’t see them. And so are miracles. A question I have is whether they facilitate miracles. What I do know is that crazy things are happening in my life, and there is no other explanation than something outside my experience and my current way of thinking is presenting itself. I just don’t know what do about it. If anything.

By now, you know I’m big on backstory, so bear with me.

2024 has been a year of … I don’t know what to call it. A year of exposure, challenge, introduction, opportunity. Other years have also provided me with inexplicable events that now in retrospect I can see have been a soft opening to other worldly experiences.

I remember a time when I was about in 5th grade, attending Catholic school, and having to attend Mass every Wednesday if not every morning (it might have changed by then). Anyway, I was not feeling well and when I was supposed to be standing or kneeling, I sat down instead. Which was not allowed. But I did it because I “knew” – I didn’t hear a voice, but I knew – that God understood and it was okay to sit and let the dizziness I was feeling pass. It did pass, it was all okay. I never forgot that.

About 25 years later, my car hit some black ice and I spun off the highway toward a guardrail, then back across the lane to the concrete divider, and back to the guardrail. I saw a car next to me that had several small children standing in the back seat. I prayed to not let me hurt those children. I came to a stop, and when I checked the car, there was only the slightest rubbing of the black fender guard thing across the bumper. No dents, wrinkles, scratches; nothing. The car with the kids was out of sight. No one else hit me. No one stopped who could have seen what happened. Then one man was suddenly talking to me because he saw my car was on the side of the road, and he wanted to make sure I was okay. He hadn’t seen me careening around the lanes, just checking on me. Where he came from and where he disappeared to I do not know.

Another 10 or 12 years after that, I had a car issue with another car in another state. About 20 miles out of town, I lost power going down the interstate, but then it came back on, then it faded out, came on. I was able to turn around and head back to town. I had my two sons and a nephew with me. I prayed to just let me get these boys back to town safely. I made it to the first exit to town, which was still about 3-4 miles on the edge of town. The car totally died at the end of the off ramp. It was raining, but I was going to walk to the nearest house I could see, which was probably a mile away. Out of nowhere a cop car pulled over, from the opposite direction. He asked if I needed help, called a tow truck that would take 45 minutes to get there, and took the boys back to my house. They all disappeared, and my boys don’t even remember this, although they were teenagers at the time. As soon as the cop left, the tow truck immediately appeared. He towed my truck to a dealer, and took me home. The next day the car dealer said they had never heard of that tow company and there never was a bill for services.

To me, those were all angel encounters. And to me, angels and ghosts are not the same things. One is good, and the other … well, not as good.

There was the time the flashlight stopped working, I took the batteries out of it to remind myself to get new batteries, and then the flashlight turned on. With the batteries out of it, right there on the counter.

Just this spring my car, while in the garage, flashed its headlights twice. I was near the car but not in it, the keys were in my hand and the car was not turned on.

And then yesterday, while I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking my first cup of coffee, my 9 year old Maytag Bravos XL washing machine in the laundry closet next to the kitchen beeped three times. My reaction was that my load was done and I needed to put the clothes in the dryer. Except I wasn’t doing any washing. I had done laundry the day before. I walked over to check this out. As I always do, when I’m done with my last load, I prop the top of the washer open so the machine can dry out. It was still propped up. There were no lights on at the top of the washer. I have a lid lock feature so the machine cannot operate with the lid open. Not on. Lid open. And then the water turned on and sprayed inside the drum like it was starting a new load.

I watched this happen and wondered how to turn it “off” – because it wasn’t “on” that I could see. I was about to reach over the machine to turn the water supply off when the drum started agitating and spinning. So it was on?? There wasn’t a lot of water, certainly not enough to do a load. Not enough to even cover all the bottom of the drum but enough for me to feel the splash and to see it was definitely starting the filling cycle. Still no lights on the control panel. And then it all stopped. It’s wet yet – small puddles of water – a day later. (When I push the power button on, the panel lights up like it is supposed to, like nothing was or is wrong.) After a moment of shock, I raised my voice and told whatever It was that this wasn’t funny, I didn’t like It messing with me, and to go away, to get out of my house and not come back. Ever.

So that’s pretty “weird,” right?

I wish that was the end. I’m not sure it is, though.

Because the day before, my 9 year old GE Adora freezer (side-by-side on the refrigerator) decided on a rumspringa of sorts. The fridge was just fine and dandy at 37 degrees, like it supposed to be. The 0 degree preferred freezer temperature as indicated on a control panel on the front of the freezer read 16 degrees. Not good. A few ice cubes apparently caught in the chute of the water dispenser fell out and left little puddles on my floor. I took all the food to the chest freezer in the garage and emptied the ice maker and turned it off. I unplugged it to hopefully have it reset itself, as advised by Dr. Google. I also took the back panel off and vacuumed the coils. (BTW, the vacuum didn’t want to work unless I held the switch in the On position. Today that vac works just fine.) By the next morning, the freezer was back down to 1 degree. I set it to -2, but it hasn’t gone lower than +1. The ice maker has not/will not make ice now, and there is no water from the dispenser either.

That should be enough for any one person to deal with, I think. Should be. Now the refrigerator temp is creeping up. It’s been at 40 since yesterday morning, but now is 42.

I wish that was the end of this saga, too. I’m not sure it is, though.

Because I’m still being messed with, now with technology, my 5-yr old Samsung A50 (android) cell phone to be specific. In the past few days (1) two friends in two days had their phones go dead while talking to me. (2) I sent a text message to my friend, but she received it as an email from my phone number. (3) I sent a picture via text to another friend. But it went to a wrong number I cannot delete from her contact info, a number that has not belonged to her in years. And I have sent other texts and pics to the newer number, but it keeps defaulting to the old number. (4) I called a woman to schedule a Reiki appointment. I got her voice mail, in which her voice said her name and the name of her business. I left a message. My phone reads that I left the message with another person, a man I serve with on the Board of Directors for my HOA. But the woman did get my message and responded to it later in the day. The man did not get the message.

Now, it would be easy to say these are a series of coinky-dinks, and to rationalize them happening. Or that they are unrelated and I just had them occur close in time to each other. Or that I need to reset or replace my phone. Or it’s the protons in the atmosphere that are raining down on us. I think not. And in conjunction with everything else going on, I cannot let go of the idea that they ARE related. I just don’t know how.

The best I can come up with to give me some peace of mind is that The Universe is sending me a message, and apparently I’m not receiving it, so the format is changing up and getting stronger. But I am not understanding the message. I need to pay attention, but I don’t know to what. Everything???

So if you see me being hypervigilant, witnessing and observing and looking zoned out, it’s because I’m paying attention to the world, to my life, to anything new and different. It’s making me a little crazy. The alternative is to contemplate having my entire house rewired, and that makes me even more crazy! Gotta run now. I have an electrician here … just to cover all my bases.

I am very curious. What do YOU think I should do? What else should I be considering???

Handy Woman Tries Hard

10 Thursday Oct 2024

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Last week I tried to be a Handy Woman, by trying to simply change out the battery in my laptop computer. This week I am having to learn a new computer – layout, settings, all that jazz. What went wrong?

The old computer was old, no doubt about it. I bought it before I left my job, so 2015, or 9 years. Which in computer years is about the same as dog years. Several – many, many – months ago, I noticed that my little green light indicating battery power was stuck on red. It didn’t seem to matter much, since I keep this paperweight on my desk and it is almost always plugged in. It turns out that is not a grand idea – the plugging in thing. But since I rarely took my computer elsewhere, it didn’t matter. Until it did.

I’ve been doing a lot of work for my homeowners” association. We are in the process of proposing amendments to our governing documents, and I am leading the project. I usually work on them at home, but lately I have been taking my computer to our clubhouse and working there, too. I have created PowerPoint presentations, presenting at Board meetings, and holding Town Hall meetings to get community feedback and help our members understand the reasons for the proposed changes. We will be voting on these at our annual meeting in December, so this has been happening more and more lately.

When your battery is dead and you unplug the laptop, it doesn’t just go to sleep; it goes on an extended vacation to La La Land. Which means when you plug it back in at the clubhouse 5 minutes away, you have to wait through the whole reboot thing, not just a wake-up call. Every. Darn. Time. Log in. Wait. Wait. Sign in. Wait. Now go. Ugh. (At least now I know my login and PIN again without having to guess.)

So I finally ordered a new battery, thinking I could change it out myself. I’ve done it before, on a different laptop, years ago. It was as easy as swapping out batteries in a Walkman. Or a flashlight, for those of you who don’t know what a Walkman is. I’ve even changed out the battery on my motorcycle in less than two minutes. But that was then, and this is now.

The laptop has a hidden battery. It weighs a short ton, but is boxy, with a connector plug attached to a ribbon cable. You have to take off the entire bottom of the computer, which had 12 (YES, 12!) screws that are each about 1/32″ long. Or maybe they are 1/4″ but seem like 1/32″. And each of these is covered by a rubber plug that has to be removed first. Then you have to remove the hinge that connects the screen or monitor from the base. Another handful of micro screws. Then you separate the keyboard. Really. I watched two different yahoos on You Tube do it like they had a secret, magic wand, it was so easy. In real life, not so easy.

When you take off the keyboard, what you don’t know is that there are also some plastic clip things that have to be depressed first. Once you do that, you still have to tug gently to get the pieces to separate. This is after you have run a credit card around the seam to pry it open. This was actually the way the You Tube guys showed how to do it. And then Voila! You majestically pull out two ribbon cables that you have no idea where they were attached to or how to reattach them when the time comes.

But first, the battery. Which is now visible but secured by 8 more teensy tiny screws. WTH?!? I was using the screwdriver to my eyeglasses, which as you might imagine is neither large nor magnetic, so when the screw finally comes loose and you drop it, you get to hunt with a flashlight before you can keep them contained in a bowl nearby.

Actually replacing the battery itself was easy peasy. Except by now I realized that there are three different sizes of screws, all ranging from 1/32 to 1/16 to 1/8″. I was taking pictures all along, but it didn’t matter because these frickin’ screws are all black and have black heads. Why they didn’t color code them is a mystery I do not understand. But I got enough to fit that I felt confident one or two here or there was not going to derail the success of my work.

At least until those dangling ribbons that couldn’t be reconnected to anything on the underside of the keyboard.

By then, I was seriously considering putting the whole shebang in a paper bag inside a plastic garbage bag, climbing on the roof of my house, and dropping it (or actively throwing it) on to the driveway below several times. Seriously. Except I’m known for falling off of ladders and step stools and stairs occasionally, so I didn’t. But I wanted to!!

I lit a candle and called on my better angels for guidance and support. I calmed myself down. Then I got a snack-sized plastic bag, put all the remaining screws (of which there are more than a dozen yet) and the cute little disguising rubber plugs in it, and taped it to the top of the screen – which, by the way, does not want to fit back onto the hinge.

If I was a drinking woman, I’d have been happy enough by now. Instead, I texted an SOS message to my nephew Vince. He tried to help me out, and he did, but now how I’d imagined. Ultimately, he found five reburbished, newer laptops available on Ebay, all of which met my requirements for USB and HDMI ports and screen size, and sent me fool-proof links to each one. I ordered one the same night, paid for with a new no-interest-until-2026 credit card, and within three days, it was on my doorstep.

You can’t tell by reading this post but I am using my new-to-me laptop right now. Oh joy!! If you don’t mind having to find and reset all your settings. It’s kind of neat how these days you can import just about everything, so set-up is theoretically a breeze. Everything transferred over except the PowerPoint slide shows I created for a Town Hall meeting last week that will be needed again next Tuesday morning. Haven’t found those yet…

And now I also have sports reports and weather news and flash notifications interrupting me every five seconds while I try and focus and keep my train of thought on a single track for a few more minutes. I have icons flashing and colors blaring at me, insignia where it isn’t supposed to be (or where I don’t want it), and shortcuts that don’t exist any longer.

I will prevail. After all, I am a Handy Woman. I got a heckuva a deal on the laptop, so I can use my savings to get a local geek to help me figure out the back-up Passport Ultra that is apparently also not restoring like I want it to – maybe because it has been unplugged as long as I have been schlepping the old laptop back and forth across the street. Well, as soon as I get used to my new set-up, I’ll get excited. For now, I’m just repeating my new mantra: