Midsummerish

Although many countries actually celebrate a festival they call Midsummer -- and do so long before mid-July -- I'm stuck in my ways enough that I think of Midsummer as the middle of this month. 

The term 'midsummer' apparently refers to the mid-point of the growing season, the halfway mark between planting and harvest. 

For those of us here in Canada, school isn't even over when those other countries celebrate. Here, the kids have only been free for just over two weeks. And often, it's only mid-month when the rains of 'June-u-ary' finally stop. 

This year's been different, with nary a drop of rain since back in June. Everything is dry dry dry, with high fire hazards and campfire bans province-wide. 

Lucky us, to be invited for our annual visit to a dear friend's cottage on the lake. 

The temps may have been warm, but going out for a paddle in the canoe (barest tip showing lower right) is a pleasure that's hard to beat. 

Vindication!

A confession: I have always been a messy person. Despite that, I can generally find what I'm looking for quickly, but to anyone else, that pile on my table probably looks like nothing more than chaos. 

But last weekend, hurrah, the Globe and Mail ran an article (with the beautiful image above on the newspaper's front page) about how such habits aren't really so terrible at all. 

One of the instances author of the article Mark Pupo cites in his defense of clutter is that of the overprotective parent wanting to ensure their child's room is clean clean clean. My dad gave that a try, but clearly, he failed. About the only thing he accomplished was making me cry. 

Recently I've been working on a poem about my messiness, kind of an apology I suppose. It starts with the words, "If Marie Kondo came to my office, she would probably cry."

Only it turns out that even the 'only-keep-items-that-bring-you-joy Marie' has had a turn of heart. What happened? She had kids, and oh gosh, but sometimes kids make a mess. Yeah. 

And in my case, even some of us supposed grown-ups do too. Happy face time. 

A fresh start

The blank page of a new calendar always feels like it means the chance for a fresh start on things. 

One of the matters we always settle up for the beginning of the year is our bills. 

I've long called our method a marriage-saver, as it's meant we've never needed to argue about money. 

When I buy something, I tear a small rip in the top of my receipt and put it into what we call 'the jar' (even though it's actually a drawer, and not a jar at all). When the guy buys, he puts his receipt into the same place, but because it's un-torn, we know he paid. 

At the end of the year, we separate the chits and make our totals. We figure out the difference, divide it in half, and that's how much the person who spent less pays to the one who paid more. 

Once we've got that figured out, we burn all those supermarket and produce store and home repair shop and pizza place receipts. 

Because it's been raining so much, we had to wait for our annual bonfire. But yes, here it is -- a fresh start on 'the jar' and on a new year. 

Here's hoping we're not the only ones heading into fresh territory, especially after the horrific events in the US today. 

Sign for a new year

When I saw this sign painted on the road, I thought, Wow, there's a good idea -- for all the pedestrians who forget to look when they're crossing the street. Since they're always looking down, fiddling with their devices, they might even see the reminder to "look".

Beyond that, I think the image provides a reminder to find ways of looking at the world in fresh ways. Rather than only looking straight ahead, consider what's coming from either side. Who knows what you might find?

Part of this idea of looking at things differently requires rethinking priorities, figuring out what matters most and trying to ensure that those things are what gets the best of our attention.

I've recently been introduced to the ideas of home architect, Sarah Susanka. She's all about 'small' rather than 'big' and has a number of interesting ways to make not only our homes, but our lives, more comfortably livable. She recently presented a TED talk on ways to rethink our lives. If you can spare 13 minutes, here's a link to that talk.

Or, a shorter experience, but again an example of doing things differently, this time the annual Cooperative Poem, as published by Leaf Press.

With wishes for a happy and productive new year, one that's full of fresh ideas and better ways of doing things.