So it’s been a long time since I sat down to type or write and part of me knows why and part of me doesn’t. I’ve had a lot to say, but was avoiding putting it down on paper. Not just here but I guess anywhere.

I have scribbled but not as much as I meant to, and not here. Not putting it here can I suppose be partially excused because its hardly thematically linked to minimal or organised living. Although come to think of it…

Anyway I don’t want to bury the lead anymore

I have breast cancer.

I was initially diagnosed in August. It was large and infiltrated the lymph nodes. I had a right breast mastectomy on the 18th October with three lymph nodes also being taken. I’m having a port o cath installed (?) inserted on Monday with 6 infusions of chemotherapy to follow between Thursday – like in a week from writing this and sometime in March. Followed by radiation therapy and hormone blockers.

It feels like too much right now to talk about the above, except to say two things; I want to get back in the groove of posting, but it might be little and often and secondly this blog will pivot.

Thanks for understanding

No I haven’t quite fallen on the low spend wagon. Although if I’m going to be brutally honest with you dear reader I will confess that I’m glad its a low spend and not a no spend.

I am going to recommit myself to both the blog and the low spend.

It is timely now for other reasons. I have a “move date window” of the end of April. I also fortuitously have a home to live in, that is finished and save a clean is ready to live in.

Other practical matters are also actually coming good. After what has also seemed like a long wait my new electric wheelchair is being delivered next Wednesday. The 2023 model of the same chair I am currently in, so in theory the learning curve will be a shallow one.

Short and sweet but that’s all for today folks

No. This is not a reference to Prince Harry.

It’s been an interesting journey so far. There have been a few slip ups; ( a lovely skirt that I will get use out of I think, but was a guilt purchase), a food subscription service which might make sense once I move but not now (went with it again out of a sense of duty; one explicit stress purchase, a “I thought they were taking my credit card for future purchases” membership purchase for a franchise that doesn’t exist close by; a new handbag, after I was attacked by a stranger while carrying my one bag, and exactly two boredom takeaways. Not great I guess. But at least I’m conscious right?

I have learnt a few things so far;

• I need to check the balcony and other storage before getting more of anything. I though I was down to 6 rolls of paper so bought another 12 thinking that depending on the move date that might see me through. Same with toilet cleaner and gloves for my carers. Then I went out on to the balcony only to discover two more boxes of gloves, three things of toilet cleaner and 48 rolls of paper spare on the balcony, and more of different spares in various spots inside (out of my line of sight).
• Like most women of a certain age or upbringing I know, I need to get better at saying no. Just no. The skirt and yes even the subscription are products of an unwillingness to leave without purchase. I don’t want to disappoint. After the attack whilst I was enquiring at the food subscriptions stand, I felt obliged in a sense to sign up. In fact whether I was still going to sign up was the sales manager’s second question after checking the safety of his staff. I wasn’t obligated. But I felt it. Even in much less dramatic circumstances I tend to feel obliged to buy, as payment for browsing.
• I get a real buzz out of finishing things. Not so much toilet paper, but a sheet or bottle of tablets or a packet of face wipes, or a tube of toothpaste or face cream I am loving the feeling of emptying something without losing it or losing interest in it first. I think I’ve been guilty of restocking when I was close to the end of something and then starting on the new. I get a real “sparks joy” type feeling.
• I don’t use as much makeup per application as I think. Nor do I wear it as often as I think I do, or maybe should. When I do wear it I’ve got a lighter touch than others who do my makeup do.

It’s time for an update, probably well past time. To be honest, the last few days have been a tough time on the minimalism front.

It felt a little like a tease but within a few days of the new year starting I managed to lose two significant items; my primary fountain pen, a rose gold Lamy which had been a kind of last gift from one of best people I’ve ever known, who has now passed, and my only pair of non prescription sunglasses.

I have a collection of pens both fountain and ink tip, but this pen was the “ride or die” pen that went with me anywhere; because it was sentimentally important, but also because it was distinctively mine (complete with a ding or two at the top where I had run over it, (Sorry James). It was easily the nicest easy pen to write with.

I write better with fountain pens but they can be less portable. Non cartridge pens tend to leak in handbags. I had not lost that pen in years and it may yet show up…. But in the meantime I have felt guilt and shame over my carelessness but also a bit lost as to what to do when things get lost.

I had said no new pens because I have a collection of unipin pens that must not expand this year! And a mild passion for fountain pens, lovely but highly impractical for one-handed everyday out of the house use. The unipin pens are making do, but after 10 mins my arm aches and the writing becomes almost illegible even to me.

Then there are the sunglasses. I lost them at the same sort of time, perhaps together. I do have prescription reading glasses for dealing with glare from windows whilst working but its not safe to drive the chair with these on, and it’s unsafe to operate the chair in a hot summer in Australia without sunglasses. I had one pair of good petite frame glasses that were not astronomically expensive but were not cheap supermarket ones either, which never seem to sit steady on my face.

My pen and my glasses might show up again. I just had a vision of them hiding out together under a bed or such and laughing at me agonising over finding them, lost while staying with an acquaintance (so harder to turn the place upside down, or nag for that to happen). When is it safe, in my new system, to declare something as lost? As I said, I could replace things that were broken or used up that would continue to be used. This wasn’t that.

In the end, operating in the glare was causing headaches and unsafe wheelchair driving so I replaced them with a new pair of the same glasses I loved a decade ago. I also put a supermarket pair in a friends glove box so I can leave the “good” ones safely at home when I know I’m less likely to be able to exert as much control over my possessions and their movement.

That’s what I mean by my having enough but not too much seems like it might be different because of my impairment. Items almost need to be counted according to situations, not on their own. But if you can manage to get overlapping situations so much the better.

As to the pen, yes I have ordered a replacement for that too. The exact same. So it will still be distinctively mine. I know it will work well for me. It will still remind me of my late dear friend and his lovely wife, my “sister of choice”. He would be glad it worked so well and he did want it to be useful . If it shows up again I will call it the dingbat pen, in recognition of the dings on the pen that will distinguish it, and the silliness of the woman who lost it.

I think he would get a giggle out of that.

Just fyi — opening comments

So I’ve kind of made a commitment now. Like my “old” blogging friend Tony I decided that subscribing for a year might incentivise me further to keep updating. I have always had high standards for what constitutes wasting my own money on my own stuff. Also, on a blog about not shopping, it gave me severe cognitive dissidence to then have advertising scattered around. I was curious to see what advertising would be served on a blog about minimalism but not interested enough to watch it happen.

I spent yesterday clearing out my inbox (wait it’s not quite as impressive as it might sound). Even with a pre sorting algorithm working in the background that was supposed to be filtering the “bacon” emails to a sub folder I had 500 unread emails in that folder, much of it advertising that had not been filtered into the bacon(advertising) folders. I systematically unsubscribed from all the overt advertising. That was the easy bit but yes there was a lot of them; 50 would be my conservative guess. Everything from my dr booking app with deals on gym membership to every shopping centre I’ve ever logged into the wifi of, to clothing brands I ordered from as a gift to others, to stationery and optical to language learning or meditation apps I tried for “three minutes” years ago. These were easy. Even from my favourite brands I had no problem unsubscribing: my logic being that if and when I need anything I will remember where to go. I then just did a select all-delete move on the sub folder that was intended to collect all the advertising emails.

The next category of emails to weed were the various content creator types. Some of them have good actual content in the email itself, (these along with essay type subscriptions I sent to @read) but many are just advertising copy with a tease and a call to action. These are harder to unsubscribe from for me because these are for the most part small business owners trying to (presumable) make a living selling courses or things designed to assist me to improve myself or to be more efficient. Bit sad lest I be letting them down. But while education is still on the list of allowed activity: self development is not, beyond the internet and what I already have and know.

So yes I’m now inbox zero!! I’ve engaged in meaningful emails as a direct result; become aware of one opportunity I missed out on as a direct result of the email getting buried (cautionary tale) and have a “healthy” stack of reading to work through slowly