White Tornado

After my mother died in April of this year, it occurred to me that one day I too would get old and die. I knew this intellectually but seeing my mother resting in her coffin made my heart know it. Something in me shifted and I became intensely aware of what was going on around me.

I read Zero Waste Home by Bea Johnson as I flew back to California from Minnesota. Although I could not go to the extreme that Bea Johnson has, the book inspired me to make some changes.

The first change I made was in my environment. Our small house was overloaded with junk. 10 shelves overflowing with books, notebooks, electronic equipment and CDs. Closets and drawers overflowing with clothes that neither of us had worn in years. Canned food rotting in our cupboards, 2 years beyond the expiration date.

Even moderate cleaning was a daunting task because we had to keep moving our stuff from one room to another as we cleaned. So we shied away from the task and the house was filthy. I had this fantasy of setting the whole house on fire so we could start fresh, with no junk.

But when I came home from Minnesota, I was transformed from Sarah, mild mannered slob to Elvira, the White Tornado. I might have been channeling my mother, who could spot a spec of dirt 10 miles way in her prime. "Filth!" I screamed at my husband, "I am surrounded by filth! I have to wash my feet before I put on my socks because they turn black from walking on the floor." When I returned from work, my husband had vacuumed and scrubbed the floors. He had even vacuumed and scrubbed under the furniture.

"I am dying of claustrophobia," I declared, "We have to get rid of stuff."
"Perhaps this compulsive cleaning is how you are dealing with your grief?" my husband said timidly. I growled like the incredible hulk and tore cans, tea and grains riddled with fruit flies out of the cupboards and tossed them into a hefty trash bag.

The dust bunnies swirled as I loaded books from the shelves into every grocery and laundry bag I had and drove off to Half Price Books in Concord. I had fifteen bags of books total, and one of the sales clerks loaded all of the bags on a cart and hauled them into the store. After waiting for an hour, I received $70 dollars. I gave $35 to my husband for being a good sport.

I got rid of 5 boxes of knick knacks, 4 boxes of cookware, 10 bags of clothes and 8 pairs of shoes. I rid the linen closet of ratty towels, bedsheets and pillows. I threw all of my husband's coats and jackets on the couch and said, "Pick the ones you want to keep. Anything you leave on the couch will be gone tomorrow." I culled unnecessary items from every shelf, cupboard, closet and drawer.

Then I cleaned. A friend of mine who is a professional house cleaner told me "Do one room at a time, starting from top to bottom, then call it a day." I followed her suggestion but did not call it a day. I cleaned every room but the man cave from top to bottom, starting with the ceiling fans, the window ledges, surfaces of tables and chests and finally the floor. It was 90 degrees outside, and I drank and sweat several liters of water. At the end of two days every muscle in my body hurt.

After resting and drinking my 20th liter of filtered water, I slowly and stiffly stood up and hobbled from room to room. I appreciated the wood floors that I could finally see. I gained about 20 feet of counter space in the kitchen simply by putting things away in the cupboards.

There is 5 more feet of floorspace in all rooms except the man cave so I no longer trip on things, or knock them over. I no longer curse my husband for being a pack rat.

The house gets messy but is much easier to tidy up and deep clean. My husband and I have yet to master the art of putting things away after using them.