06.12.23 Adventures in Downsizing

A carload - off to The Real Real - June 2022

Let's sell the big house...

April 2022:  

I reached out to a friend and neighbor who is a realtor, and we had a serious conversation about what it would take.

May 2022:

On the second Saturday of the month I got a phone call from one of my husband's cycling buddies that he'd had a wreck - it was bad - and he was on his way to the ER.

Fast forward through the rest of 2022, which included surgery to repair his broken collarbone, rest, rehabilitation and a wedding.

Spoiler alert: we're still in the big house, and that's okay, really...but there's a lot less stuff.

We haven't abandoned the idea of selling and moving - just the opposite - we talk about it, and what's next - all the time.  When it does happen, whatever we move into is going to be a lot smaller...so we can't take it all with us.

As you read this, 

- Maybe you are like us - still in the big house, with all the things that accumulate over an adult life (especially if you raised a family in a house with multiple rooms, closets and attic space).  

- Maybe you have gone through the painful process of letting go and getting rid of those things that no longer serve you.

- Maybe you are just starting out, and haven't succumbed to all that accumulating.   A piece of advice, you do not need as many things as your parents or grandparents (nor are you obligated to keep their things if you don't want them).

Once something finds its way into your life and home, it is likely to stay there...for lots of reasons.

Not once have I regretted this upgrade

There are the essential things - pots, pans, utensils, dishes, furniture, appliances - that most of us find necessary for human existence.  These were some of the first things we upgraded in the early months of the pandemic because we were going to be in our house all the time.

Essential thing I did not upgrade - clothes - until it was almost time for the wedding and I did not want to meet my daughter in law's family in the ratty tee shirts and yoga pants I'd been wearing for two and a half years.

There are the extra things - I count jewelry among those - and it's different for everyone.  These are the things that really do make life better, they bring you joy when you see them, or hold them, or use them in some way.  They are not, by definition, expensive but they do take up space.

Then, there are the things you know you should get rid of...but that's a chore you just don't want to tackle today.

We have way too much in our house that falls into that last category, and the problem is compounded by not knowing that to do with it.  

- Clothes (unlike my pandemic wardrobe) that still have life in them, but having been hanging in the closet unworn for multiple seasons.  

- Gifts given with the best intentions - and for which you or your child wrote a thank you note - that went promptly into a cabinet and haven't seen the light of day in years. 

- Books from college, graduate school, and the book club that dissolved ten years ago.

What I am supposed to do with all this stuff!?

Well, it turns out there's an entire industry that has evolved because people figured out that putting things into the garbage and landfills is a really bad idea; and to those people - the ones who do it for free, like buy nothing groups, and those who see it as a profitable opportunity - I say thank you.

My absolute favorite place to take donations is Austin Creative Reuse.  They take so many different kinds of things and give them new life.  I know this because so many of my maker friends shop there first, before going to traditional retail outlets.  The staff is amazing, too - I've taken carloads to them (I made appointments and they met me at their loading dock) and as they helped unpack my CRV filled to the brim with things that were a burden to me, they saw potential; their enthusiasm is truly heartwarming.

For higher end items - especially shoes and handbags (of which I acquired entirely too many over the past three decades) - I have had nothing but good experiences with The Real Real.  

Over the past year I've received several hundred dollars in commissions, and because the point was never to buy more stuff, I made the decision to donate the proceeds each month.  So far I've donated to the Lilith Fund, Planned Parenthood, Lamba Legal and the ACLU while simultaneously making room in my closet.

Then, there's the service I pay for...Ridwell.  

We were out with friends early in the year talking about our adventures in downsizing, one of them mentioned they had started using Ridwell, and offered us a free one month trial.  

It is, without question, worth the $12 per month to have them come to your door and pick up things that you really can't take anywhere else.  Old electronics, empty inkjet cartridges, clothes that are too worn to be donated - they take all of it - and work with organizations to ensure none of it ends up in the buried in a landfill or floating in the ocean.

And last, at least for this post, sometimes you find a bonus as you are letting go of things...in handbags that went to consignment resellers, I found some cash and a full punch card from Jo's coffee, which I used for a free Iced Turbo to keep me going and I drove to the post office and UPS to send those bags on to their next life.

Until next time.

03.07.22 Anatevka

The Fiddler, Marc Chagall (1912)
Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam

In January, I said I was going to post once a month, even if I'm not back in the studio or if I don't have anything jewelry related to write about.

My plan for March had been to put up a fun post about kitchen stuff - but given the turn of world events in the past two weeks - it doesn't seem like the time.  Instead, I want to tell you a little about my not so distant connection to Ukraine.

Anatevka is a fictional town in the Russian Pale (which includes what is now Ukraine) where Jews were "allowed" (read restricted) to reside in Czarist Russia.  

The town and its inhabitants lived in the mind of Shalom Aleichem, a Yiddish storyteller. One of the townspeople was Tevye, the milkman.  Shalom Aleichem's stories about Tevye and his community were written in the late 19th century as Jews (including my great grandparents) fled the Czar's pogroms, and in the mid 20th century, they became the basis for the musical, Fiddler on the Roof.

My great grandparents
Emanuel and Cyril ~ 1930

Like Tevye and Golda - my maternal great grandparents, Emanuel and Cyril - had an arranged marriage.  Unlike Tevye and Golda - who questions whether there is any love in the house - there was no doubt in my great grandparent's case.  As my mother told their story, their relationship was filled with tenderness and mutual respect.  

As the Jews of Anatevka did, Emanuel and Cyril fled Ukraine with their young children and made their way to America.  They settled in Little Rock, Arkansas - where my grandfather, the youngest of five - was born.

Because of them, I am a third generation American, something I do not take for granted.  It is highly likely that I have cousins I do not know in Ukraine - provided they survived the pogroms, the Holocaust, and previous Russian occupations - again fighting for their lives.

My grandfather, Julius, 1965

My grandfather had only a high school education, but he had an incredible work ethic, and truly saw America as a land of opportunity.  He and my grandmother ran a series of successful shoe stores and saw to it that my mother, their only child, did go to college.

It is because of them, I live a life of privilege in America today.  Not because I have done anything special or heroic - but because they did.

I am grateful to them, and to everyone who has made my comfortable, upper middle class life possible. I also realize that I have an obligation, WE ALL DO, to help those who are not yet safe, secure and free.

In 1963, Dr. Martin Luther King said:   

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. 

This is true at home and abroad - regardless of our ancestry - either we all survive, or none of us do.

Photo Credit: World Central Kitchen Instagram

I am constantly impressed by the work of Chef José Andrés, and have donated directly to his organization World Central Kitchen.  WCK in partnership with chefs throughout eastern Europe are providing thousands of meals every day to Ukrainians.

The New York Times and the Obama Foundation both have lists of vetted organizations providing support for Ukraine.

I urge to do what you can (as no one of us alone can do it all) to promote justice and peace in your home and your community.

Until next time.

09.01.17 Harvey

Hurricane Harvey as seen by the ISS.
Photo credit: New York Times

I normally post on Monday, but things are not exactly normal right now.

I was planning to tell you about our wonderful family vacation at Rehoboth Beach - but that's going to have to wait...because at the moment Texas coastal towns are on my mind more than any in Delaware.

We knew this storm was going to be bad, really bad...and we've seen big hurricanes before.



My husband - who grew up in south Texas - lived through Carla. His family still lives in Houston, where they spent almost two weeks without power after Ike. After Katrina, Houston, and our hometown of Austin took in thousands of refugees.

Nothing anyone had ever seen prepared us for Harvey. Nothing.

Photo credit: Emily Cawood

Thursday night before the storm hit, we agreed that my mother in law should come up to Austin and stay with us - so my husband drove to Houston and back to get her.  For three days we sat at our house in the pouring rain (but otherwise fine), with the TV on, and watched as the devastation hit.

First the coastal towns where we have had family vacations - Rockport, Corpus Christi and Port Aransas; then Victoria - where my college roommate and her family lived for many years before moving to Wisconsin; then Houston, where it seemed the rain would never let up. Harvey dumped more than four feet of water on the Texas Gulf Coast, and there's no telling how long it will take to rebuild - let alone truly recover.

We all want to DO something - and in the short term - the most important thing those of us who were not impacted can do is donate to the relief effort.  Financial donations are best - because they allow the organizations on the ground to obtain the goods and services they need to help those who have been impacted.  I have a list of organizations on my Facebook page if you want to help.

Many Texas artists have stepped up to support and donate to relief efforts.  I participated by donating a surfite pendant to an online Harvey Relief Auction (today through 9/3 on Instagram) - and 100% of the proceeds will be donated the Houston Food Bank and Global Giving.

For the remainder of the year - throughout the holiday season - I'll be donating a portion of my jewelry sales to the relief efforts.  For every custom Texas pendant  I sell from now until the end of the year - 20% of the price (which will vary based on the type of stone and size of the pendant) will be donated to Houston's relief efforts.

The last few weeks have been difficult - and I am anxious to get back to the bench, and to return to blogging about less serious topics - like vacation.

I hope this finds you safe, well and dry.

Until next time.