KERRE MCIVOR
KERRE’S PUTTING HER HOUSE IN ORDER WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM HER FRIENDS
Last week, I wrote that I was girding my loins, ready to begin a deep declutter of our home of 22 years as we decide what we’re going to do in the next phase of our lives.
Whether we sell or not, a declutter is necessary as we haven’t had one since renovating the house more than 10 years ago. But I have been reluctant to begin. I am not, by nature, an organised person.
I function quite well living in a state of disorder and messiness that other people would find unacceptable. So the concept of a clean-out is hard for me to grasp. The house is clean, don’t get me wrong – it’s just messy.
I opened a cupboard the other day and stared at the dishes, bowls, jugs and crockery objects designed to hold nuts or olives or the like and realised they have never done so – their destiny is unfulfilled. Still, I found myself paralysed with indecision.
I took out a set of coasters, thinking they might look nice up in the Hokianga, put them on the table and then shot out the door in a state of denial and went for a swim instead.
I was bemoaning the fact that I was such a complete and abject failure at work the next morning when the lovely AnnMarie, our boss’ executive assistant, turned to me and said, “Oh! Are you having a tidy up? I love a good declutter – I’ll help.”
Emma, our promotions manager, also pricked up her ears. “Who’s having a cleanout?” she asked, looking around the office. “I am,” I said. “Excellent!” she replied.
“Yours will be a cracker. Shall we come over on Friday night?”
I looked at the two of them incredulously. “How can you enjoy something like this?” I asked. “I’m terrified of my own home.” Emma was reassuring, “You just need a method,” she said. “Four boxes – keep, chuck, donate and sell. Easy.”
Put like that it did sound doable. So, on Friday night the girls appeared, reinforced by Niva, our newsreader, who has moved into a minimalist apartment and encourages everyone else to follow suit, and Tans, a mate and former colleague who loves a gettogether and has a sturdy ute that could cart away the rejected household items.
They arrived with boxes, tape guns, marker pens and a roll-up-our-sleeves, can-do attitude. Within an hour, the kitchen was done.
My wardrobe was next and the girls were ruthless – if I hadn’t worn it for more than two years it had to go − and I soon had a couple of boxes of clothes ready to be donated.
I waved everyone off later that evening and, as they disappeared with various boxes of stuff to be donated to Dress for Success, Hospice and the Red Cross, the house all of a sudden seemed lighter – freer.
The declutter was underway.
But we still had a very long way to go. And that’s when another old mate turned up.
My former colleague Mark Dye is a master declutterer and when he heard there was a major clean-out on, he turned up on my doorstep eager to help. I don’t know how he does it, but Mark has a gift to create order from a state of chaos. He sorted out all the CDs and DVDS that were gathering dust on shelves and in drawers, matched discs with covers, and put them in a box to be taken to an old school shop that sold them.
He cleaned out the sheds, choking and spluttering as decades of dust cascaded around him, and put out stuff on the side of the road in case people wanted an old bookcase or blue ceramic planters (they did). All the while I followed orders and tried not to get in the way. In just a matter of hours, the sheds were spotless, orderly and there was a place for everything and everything was in its place.
In just one weekend, thanks to my amazing friends, we can see order being restored. And hopefully a few good causes will benefit as a result of the first phase of The Great Declutter of 2020.