Kick Your Bucket List

In the true spirit of minimalism, today we are going to talk about paring down your bucket list.  Many of us have one, a list of maybe/maybe not attainable goals or places we have heard or read that we MUST see.  Perhaps you already have a few checked off.  I think to myself, DANG! Another list I have to keep track of?  Do I find that some anguish swirls around in me if I don't check things off from time to time?  

Let's kick that bucket.

Goals are good.  They keep us from stagnancy.  Promote forward thinking.  But does a bucket list, which may likely never see completion, prevent us from seeing today as an accomplishment?  I think perhaps it may.  

Earlier this week, I was weeding in my yard, mostly to prevent people from calling to see if our house had been foreclosed on (it hasn't).  I cleared a decent section of the flower bed, sat on the front porch with a nice pilsner glass of local brew, and admired my small accomplishment.  My house faces northwest, so I enjoyed the evening performance of the sun setting on a broad Texas sky in the spring.   Mentally, I proposed THIS should be on my bucket list of sorts, because I am fully appreciating right now.   

Sure, planning to see Paris in the spring is nice, too, but if I am ruminating over a written list of stuff I haven't done yet, will I be enjoying now and what I have done?  And experienced?  I stuck my face in my lavender plants that are pondering their spring rejuvenation and inhaled their aromatic gifts to me.  I planted them after my mother died to remind me of her, as she DID experience Paris in the spring and adored it.  I thought, check!  Today was a day well-lived.  

How about we weed our bucket list, and enjoy what today has brought us?  You breathed air today, and probably made a difference to the planet in some way.  Those seem like great things to check off as done. 

And go plant some lavender.  

What Will the Neighbors Think?

I have spent many blog moments talking about pitching your crap and living with a bit less.  But if you are down to three mixing bowls instead of nine, won't your cupboards look bare?  Perhaps.  Have you thought about fewer cupboards?

I'm in Texas.  Where we do everything big.  Big ole Chevy Suburbans, big hair, and especially a whopper red brick house with rooms whose functions that are still unclear like butler's pantry (who has a butler?) and children's suite (children need a suite?).  It's a sign of your success, of course, that you can bunk three families in your home, even though only one lives there. 

I have read in many places that the average home size has almost doubled since the 1950's, although the average family size has not.   Here in Texas, the cost of living is far more affordable than the west or east coast.  Houses are large and abundant.  Does that mean you need to buy as much as the bank says you qualify for?  

I say you don't.

More house will impress your neighbors, right?  It will look good at Christmas when you pay someone to illuminate it to be even more impressive.  It will invoke envy on Facebook when you post pics of your new living room furniture (but you don't use that furniture because it's too fancy).  People are silly. 

Next to your pretty pics, post a shot of your tax assessment.  Gah!  Who knew you were paying the county $18,000 for the privilege of using its dirt and schools? Tag me in your post of your awesome water bill in the summer for keeping your lawn golf course perfect.  Man, I am jealous!  

I am sinfully throwing stones, I admit, because my house is probably 1,000 square feet more that my family requires.  The cows do provide a tax break, however.  I don't water jack squat because the weeds blow on to my lawn from the pasture, and I refuse to give them more sustenance.  

But when the nest lies empty, I will likely find a way to downsize.  I want to see way more of the planet than just my backyard and its needy grass.  If you're not supporting a house the size of a hotel in Bali, then you have more opportunity to do just that.  I am thinking a sweet Airstream or vintage Shasta, but that's another post.  

When you're pondering embracing minimalism, or just want to spend less of your income on a house burden, consider paying for less square feet.  Since you already decrapified,  a smaller house will seem huge.  

Shrink on, Minimalists, and enjoy your shrunken tax and water bills!  

Storage Room of Shame: Your Garage

I think I have found a focus point that may help you bag up at least 10 days' worth of your "40 bags in 40 days" goal: the garage.  I bet you would think I will prattle on about my tiny garage and its minimal contents and that I fit my one car neatly in its garage bay.  But I can't.

Because five.

That's how many cars we have.  It's probably the least minimalist part of my existence.  And I face it with some shame, yes, but let's move on.  I have a teen driver, you know, and it's Texas, so we need a truck too... my excuse river runs deep.  

Back to your garage.  I drive through the neighborhoods near me and EVERYONE is parked in the driveways and on the streets.  What, I ask, is the function of the two or three car garages attached to your home?  Very pricey storage, my minimalist friends, and in addition, you're paying property tax for your storage room.  There's an epiphany, yes?

In my defense, I do park three of the cars I own in my three car garage.  At the very least, I am using my garage for its intended purpose.  Which brings me to today.  What can YOU do to get your garage used for its purpose:  car, lawn mower, and tool storage?  

Firstly, you must empty it out.  Completely.  Yes, I am aware this attracts neighbors and passers-by to your house like free tickets to a Wayne Newton concert, and you will have to say repeatedly NO, I am not having a garage sale today.  But it must be emptied.  This is likely a spring weekend event, because if it starts snowing halfway in, you'll be tossing back your rusty allen wrenches into to the corner and cursing my name.  

Before you begin putting back all you have removed, ask yourself the age-old question: what the hell is this?  If you can't identify the tool , the parts left over from your Ikea dresser from '07, or the box of Christmas yard art that was wrecked in the last snowstorm, then it goes.  Trash.  Next, I would like you to please park your cars in your garage.  Regard the space around said cars.  THIS is your left over storage space.  You have likely invested a large amount into your vehicles.  You are likely still paying on these investments.  So, give them a nice home out of the elements.  The rest of your stuff may be a bit pissy it doesn't get that kind of treatment, but it should be happy it's not trash!

I realize this is just a start, but I know you can harvest several bags from your garage to meet that 40 bags quota (see first Cowtown Minimalist blog post for those details).  Good luck, Minimalists!  Your cars and I commend your efforts.  

It's Time to Talk About Travel-Size

It's Spring Break, Minimalist friends!  Many of us are loading up our cars and boarding planes for beaches and mountains, trying desperately to economically pack only what we need for that week away from our burgeoning 2500+ square foot storage facilities in which we reside.  Which brings us to today's focus:  the travel-sized toiletry.  

You know you hoard them.  Who can resist taking home those hand lotions from the insanely priced Mickey hotel with the little ears on the bottle?  And what about the free shampoo the Ritz provides that has their beeyootiful lion logo reminding you of luxury and pampering? The nice lady at the department store kindly filled your bag with free samples of perfume and eye shadow when you bought that one lipstick; you can't just THROW THAT AWAY, can you?  Of course you can.  

Because I did.  Truthfully, I donated them to the women's shelter in our town who provides toiletries to women who escape with nearly nothing from abusive homes.  Which I recommend you do instead of filling up a landfill.  But in the name of all that's holy and clutter-free, get rid of them.  And yes, it counts as one of your 40 bags in 40 days.  

I keep both my travel toiletry kit and my passport at the ready.  It's not that I travel all that frequently, but if someone wants to take me to Paris at a moment's notice, I know where my conditioner is that meets TSA standards.  But I don't need 30 conditioners in a three ounce size.  Neither do you, my free sample loving friend.  So, do the area under your sink a favor. Decrapify, recycle, and have an excellent and minimalist spring break!

  

Vacation Minimalist Style

Your life is busy, right?  Work demands your time, as do errands, kid responsibilities, and Aunt Edith would really like to see you this Sunday after church. When you DO take a vacation, it's not unlike invading Normandy Beach, with your time with Mickey and Minnie scheduled to the moment, to maximize fast passes and the wait in line to see that princess who freezes stuff when she looks at it.  Happiest place on earth, my a*$.  

Many feel the time leading up to a vacation nearly nullifies the fun you'll have once you get to your destination.  Tidy up details at work, the dreaded "out of office" email set up, farming out the dogs, and organizing the kids and their clothes and their crap.  Why do we even try?  Because we have to.  Americans take fewer vacation days that most of the rest of the planet.  August in Europe finds nearly everyone "on holiday" except for the folks who run the inns and bake bread.  They are undoubtedly on to something over there.  

Here at Cowtown Minimalist, I challenge you to make things simpler, at least for now, and take a mental break/vacation every day. It's way easier than pre- and post-vacation laundry, and you don't have to have your mail held.   Start today.  "But I don't even HAVE an extra hour?!", you say?  Cut the crap.  Yes, you do.  You waste more than an hour on Pinterest or reading blogs.  

Henry Ward Beecher, a 19th century clergyman, said "the first hour of the morning is the rudder of the day".  Indeed.  Use that hour, or at least part of it, to steer your day with a mental vacation.  Get your coffee or morning beverage of choice, and journal (used as a verb).  My dad kept a short and sweet jotting of his daily happenings in a journal from 1965 until a few weeks before his death.  What a find.  Not a writer?  Put on some planetarium-ish music, sit in the quiet, turn OFF any phone notifications, and think about nothing.  Push grocery list and work to-dos from your brain.  Do this.  The life you save may be your own.

Minimalism embraces the ability to appreciate the present and clear both physical and mental clutter.  Decrapifying includes you brain, too.  We want you to feel ready to face your busy life, yet appreciate and not curse it.  Now, get moving!  You have a conference call in an hour, and you forgot to sign your kid's permission slip and bake brownies for the bake sale.

Let's Talk About Your Textiles

Today, in assisting you with your 40 Bags in 40 Days project, we will focus on your dirty little secret: the Linen Closet.  I understand you may not have an actual closet; it may be a few shelves in your bathroom,  your clothes closet, or under your sink.  I would wager that wherever it is, it's replete with extra linen-y type stuff.  

How many towels you use on a daily basis is up to you.  You may have toddlers who bathe daily and make messes that you need a time machine to keep up with.  Or perhaps the teenage girls in your home who need a towel for hair, a towel for body, and a towel for feet make the laundry a prison-job type chore.  Regardless of populace, you likely have more towels in that closet than your family uses.  Go through and dispose of all but one or two extra.  Most households keep what we refer to here at the ranch as "dog towels".  They are for pups' muddy feet as well as unplanned spills of epic proportions like washing machine regurgitation.  If they become irrevocably stained, they go in the trash.  Have a Bed Bath and Beyond coupon? Use it.  Replace towels as needed.  Unnecessary to keep enough for the Grand Budapest Hotel.

This applies to bed sheets as well.  If you have a potty-trainer bunking at your home, an extra change or two of that toddler bed is necessary for sanity.  The rest of us need perhaps one set of sheets to live folded in the closet, if that.  Take them off your bed on Saturday morning, wash, and return to the bed. Who wants to fold a fitted sheet, anyway? Who even knows HOW?  This whole towel/sheet rotation concept to ensure even wear and tear is cluttery, wasteful and mentally strenuous.  Use and enjoy what you own. How can you love 600 thread count sheets if they're in the closet? 

Keep your linens neat and uncluttered.  More joy will come to you when you open your closet and gaze into your crisp and orderly folded towels and sheets.

Happy DeTextile-ing, friends!

Master bathroom linen closet