In Praise of (A Small Amount of) Clutter

These are our bookshelves, well about half of them. The other half are in the playroom, which underwent a major reorganisation last weekend. Some books moved from here to there, such as my Malory Towers and St. Clare’s collections. Eldest Orchid is dipping into more and more of my beloved childhood reads and this sparks great joy.

Every so often we get an urge to purge and take out all of the books on these shelves and go through them and 99% of the time every single book goes right back onto the shelves. This process means for about 3 days there’s a system to how the books are arranged. These are deep shelves, so there’s two layers of books on each shelf and sometimes the urge to purge means we rediscover the second layer’s delights.

I have a complete paperback collection of the Drina books I so enjoyed as a child, one or two of which are at the read-so-much-they’re-falling-apart stage of life. To my delight, I was able to get my hands on hardback replacements for 4 of them and they arrived this week. I enjoy the slight editing, with references to Hungary rather than a fictional Iron Curtain country and some of the uniform is nylon rather than silk. I pondered a while on who’s job it was to edit the originals and what decisions were made to bring them up to date. I especially enjoyed the covers.

I have no space for these books, nor do I have space for the 3 library books I collected yesterday. Books on loan to others come back post urge to purge and I forget they need space. There are books shoved hastily on top of neat rows of Chalet School treasures. There’s a cookbook that should be in the cookbook cupboard in the kitchen. There’s probably a stray Miffy somewhere. There’s definitely a less than perfect order to the whole.

While I do prefer less clutter on the whole, I took a moment to appreciate these shelves while shoving my new Drinas in this morning. These are the shelves of people who read books, who dip in and out of interests, who get a thrill from a musty second hand copy and who want to spend more time reading and enjoying the books than keeping them shelved backwards or looking like a rainbow. Sometimes clutter does spark joy, and that’s something to celebrate.

Date Lunch

Weeks ago, knowing we were both off at the same time, I booked lunch in One Pico. It has been three years since we went there – the night the Pope visited Ireland when I was heavily pregnant. I enjoyed the food immensely, as well as the knowledge that this was one of the last nights out we’d have together before Mini Orchid arrived. We always wanted to come back but one thing and another, and Covid, meant it wasn’t until yesterday that we actually did.

I can highly recommend both One Pico and a lunchtime date. We’ve often been tired on the rare occasions we make it out the door sans children for a date night, but no such issues at lunch. It was sheer bliss to eat, drink and talk without yawning or wondering if we should wrap it up because we would have an early start the next day.

I’m still jealous of himself’s venison and beetroot tartare, but my sika deer and pear and chocolate made up for it somewhat. We shared a bottle of wine, enjoyed lovely aperitifs, savoured our coffee and truffles and didn’t watch the clock at all. It was all so gorgeous that we’ve booked it again for a pre-Christmas treat as our gift to eachother. Having wandered shops prior to lunch, we realised nothing we saw compared to the luxury of time spent together, enjoying ourselves.

We cannot wait to go back.

Tiny Sparks of Joy

For the first time in several weeks we got the bikes out and cycled to the library. I collected the very latest Sally Rooney book, thanks to the amazing online library system, and I’m really enjoying it.

The kids did a lot of Lego this weekend, including a Covid self portrait complete with mask. I love how much they love Lego, and that they’re using some Lego that’s nearly as old as I am.

Eldest Orchid had a birthday party to attend. Instead of sitting in a cafe scrolling I went for a walk along the seafront and enjoyed the views.

I reread an old favourite while Himself watched the rubgy. My idea of a good Friday evening.

I had two hours to myself on Friday morning and did a long overdue overhaul of the dining and sitting rooms. The sheer bliss of clearing out the crap, rearranging the things I want to keep and sitting down to a clean and tidy dinner and after dinner glass of wine. It felt like redecorating without the hassle.

Tiny Sparks of Joy

Finding the loveliest set for the Mini Orchids to help with cooking prep.

A bunch of paper flowers, thanks to Eldest Orchid.

The results of a major playroom declutter and reorganisation, and the happiness of sending things to new homes.

The results of a major wardrobe clearout for Tiny Orchid, and the happiness of sending things to cousins.

An easy, cheerful read. I have a stack of library books to get through and this one really hit the spot.

Tiny Sparks of Joy

More art from Eldest Orchid, made from anything and everything.

A battered but beautiful street sign on my daily walk, reattached and useful despite the cracks.

New bedlinen. Bliss.

A chocolate cake because we didn’t have enough chocolate on Easter Sunday.

Drinks outside on our new garden table on the sunniest Saturday of March. A much needed treat after a busy week.

Tiny Sparks of Joy

Trying some new recipes to use up what we have and stretch out the time between visits to Lidl or Aldi.

Evening walks alone after dinner. I put my headphones in, listen to a podcast and enjoy the time and exercise.

Doing weights every morning. I only manage about 20 minutes but I’ve realised it makes the whole day so much better.

Back to our normal date night menu after a couple of weeks of indulgence. Yum.

Art, art and more art. I’ve become much better at ignoring the mess and dreading the tidying up, because the creation is the important bit.

Such A Perfect Day

I realised when I started setting up this blog post that this was pretty much the only semi-interesting photo I took yesterday. A sign of how much time we spent not looking at our phones, which was a very good thing.

We’re both off this week and have been catching up on small and medium-sized jobs like tidying up these pots, sorting out the small disaster area that is the tiny space that holds our coats, cleaning products, vacuum cleaner, mop and a hundred other items that fit nicely there, finding a wallet after said tidying, and fixing the garden hose. In between these jobs we’ve had plenty of time for reading, enjoying ice cream, having the first BBQ of the year (in March! What?!), coffees and pastries and bike rides.

Yesterday was perfect. A couple of extra hours in bed, some nice sausages and rashers for breakfast, lunch that required no prep and an evening of smoky tasting chicken and healthy salad. A couple of evening cocktails and an early night. And waking up today knowing we could do it all over again. The discovery of a forgotten bottle of pink gin was most welcome.

Weekend

It was one of those really, really good weekends. Every week it feels good to reach Friday and feel like maybe we’re a week closer to the beginning of some sort of end to level 5 and lockdowns.

We had the most delicious meal from Uno Mas. We have ordered from here before, and it was really good. This time we went for a duck feast and it truly was a feast. We had leftovers for lunch on Monday and saved our dessert for Sunday evening’s Antiques Roadshow.

I also caught up on a few small jobs like clearing my wardrobe of anything that hasn’t been worn since March last year. Mainly work dresses and clothes that don’t fit because of All The Eating and Drinking since March last year. I also found the beautiful cardigan my mother made for me in 1994. I’d wear it now if it came in my size.

I marked one year of This Shitty Situation with banana bread. I used up some questionable dates and very old frozen bananas. It was delicious and just what we needed with our afternoon coffee.

Mother’s Day was such a lovely day. For breakfast I reheated potato cakes on the cast iron pans that are my favourite kitchen equipment-every time I use them I exclaim how much I love them and how I can’t believe I left them unused in a cupboard for so long. Flowers, cards and homemade treats were all very welcome.

Finally, I’ve been listening to a lot of You’re Wrong About, especially after That Interview. This copy of the Sloane Ranger has been amusing me.

Tiny Sparks of Joy

A new(ish) bed for a boy who decided climbing over a cot railing was very good fun. Another last first thing for our family, and another load of gear off to a new home later this week.

Watching The Lady Vanishes on Sunday afternoon.

Some fancy drinks for Thursday evening. It was One Of Those Weeks.

Three loads of laundry washed and line dried today. I’m scraping the barrel this week, in my attempt to feel a little more positive.

Pancakes twice this week, because why not and tis the season etc.

A Very Minor Affliction

I reread Live Alone and Like It last week. I haven’t read it in a long time, even though my blog is named after and very much inspired by Marjorie. One of my habits is reading the same few books over and over again, until I get thoroughly bored of them and moved on to another set. Taking this off the shelf was like getting together with an old friend.

The metaphorical kick up the backside it gave me was long overdue. I seem to have excuses for everything lately, and some very bad habits have crept in. I’ve been using lockdown number three as a way to explain away too many silly choices. Marjorie was absolutely correct when she cautioned against getting a bit musty and feeling too sorry for yourself.

Reading the Cases again made me wonder what advice Marjorie would be dishing out to Case Me right now. Would she be telling me to stop moping and make sure I kept my wardrobe up to date so I didn’t droop when I did leave the house? Would she be cautioning me against letting it all get Too Awful? Would she hint darkly at the dangers of drinking too much? Would she advise me to look seriously at my spending and try to save enough for the rainy days ahead?

Marjorie would have lived through the flu epidemic over a hundred years ago. I wonder how she handled it? Was she the sort of ‘perfect hero’ described in A Tangled Web? Did she roll her eyes at restrictions and buy masks in the same unexciting shade as her best coat and hat? Maybe she let herself wallow a bit, and then sternly took herself in hand, roll up her sleeves and Get On With It?

Rereading this is a good reminder that what I have to put up with now is so very minor. I am safe at home, working in a dedicated office space that doubles right now as laundry room, gym and ballet practice studio. I have a strong feeling Marjorie would be ok with very occasional bouts of Feeling A Bit Crap About Everything, before reminding me that help is on the way, there’s always someone who has it worse off and that misery isn’t a particularly enjoyable state of mind if I can shake it off.

So this week I shall plan an early night after a bath, as she suggests, a new(ish) book by a favourite author and a little wardrobe audit to make everything as chic as possible under the circumstances. I don’t live alone, but I can learn to Like Living Through All This if I try a bit harder.