Ombailamos

mine eyes have seen the glory

of a well-organized closet!  The closet was where I started decluttering, a few years ago ... for whatever reason, it was easiest for me.  

The kitchen was next.  And now I am UNSTOPPABLE except, of course, for the frustrating necessity of respecting other people's stuff.  Phooey.  

Anyway, this past weekend I buried my to-do list and attended to a long-overdue restructuring of my closet.  I used to have a tall chest of drawers in there, which ate up nearly two feet of hanging space, and I could no longer do without that space.  

Half of my closet space is consumed by dancewear.  The other half is for real life.  The balance may be a little off but it does give you an inkling of my priorities!

 

present me, future me, and things I do

Quite a while back now, I needed an exit strategy from a toxic job.  I looked around me at things my friends do; I thought hard about things I like to do; and I thought about things it would be good for me to do.  I arrived at one conclusion: getting a personal training certification. 

Mr. P was evidence that this could be a steady and profitable form of self-employment.  It would keep me active.  It would keep me (perforce, through continuing-education requirements) learning.  So, I embarked on a course of home study and practice testing, and at the end of it passed the certification exam for NASM. 

At roughly the time I was finishing this process, an opportunity opened up to take a ballroom teacher training course that could also lead to a certification.  As a ballroom fanatic, this was (while a big financial and time investment) almost a no-brainer.  It was extremely valuable instruction and in fact during a period of disemployment, being (and feeling) qualified to teach helped me bridge the gap between SUI and the bills.  

As it happens, I never took the plunge into full self-employment.  I was able to find a job, and then another job, and finally the job I have now (the best by far).  These have provided us with financial stability and helped put us on a path to financial independence.  And as the "must choose" date approaches for certain long-term decisions to be made, I have to look at the cost-benefit analysis re: keeping the PT certification. 

It isn't all that costly.  It comes out to about $350 a year for dues, insurance, continuing education, and the recertification fee.  But with a ten-year timeline to a major life change, that adds up to $3500, which is fairly serious money. 

If I let the certification lapse, and ten years down the road, maybe after we've settled outside of L.A., decide to re-certify, I can do it for around $500.  I still save $3000.  That's a tankless water heater, and a ductless air conditioner, AND a really good refrigerator.

With all this in mind, I have decided to let the certification lapse.  The odds are that I will remain employed in an office job for the next ten years.  Lapsing now does not prejudice recertification at a later date. 

It is time for "present me" to stop paying it forward to "future me."  Future Me can decide for herself what to do.  And I have still enjoyed a midlife re-education of immense value.

bonsai, banzai?

If a plant can be said to feel incredulous outrage, that is what my big ficus tree is feeling right now. 

The decision was made to bonsai this tree.  Reasons: 

• It was way too big for the patio, at nearly 6 feet. 
• I have three other small trees now should a hummingbird again want to nest. 
• It was getting really gangly and untidy-looking because of the thinning I have done to accommodate hummingbirds.  And the hummingbirds have (temporarily I hope) abandoned me, so the tree is fair game. 

In short, the tree was bound for either re-homing, or a radical reconfiguration.  In the spirit of "what's the worst that can happen" (to which the answer is, the tree spitefully dies), I have embarked on a modified bonsai process. 

In real bonsai, a potted tree is kept intentionally and radically dwarfed through near-constant pruning and re-shaping of the above-ground parts, and repeated pruning and re-potting (generally into the same size container) of the below-ground parts.  A real bonsai is typically less than 10% the size of the same plant in its natural state, and sometimes as little as 1% the size.  Some bonsai, of long-lived species like cedar, are handed down through families as part of the estate, or passed on to fellow keepers through clubs.  

My tree, already around twenty years old and having been allowed to reach a non-dwarf height (if it were planted in the ground, I am confident it would immediately seize hold of extra space and explode into growth), cannot now be truly dwarfed without killing it.  

A side note on the ficus:  Beverly Hills used the same species of tree to line Olympic Boulevard a long time ago.  The city is now in the process of replacing these with magnolias.  Magnolias are distant cousins of the ficus, but instead of a surface root structure (which the city has discovered results in heaved sidewalks and broken sprinkler systems) magnolias have a deep root structure.  They also have big, showy, fragrant flowers.  It will take a while for the road not to look scalped, but ten years on, it will be lovely.

Through my past manipulations of the ficus, a medium-density canopy surmounted a mostly-open branching network, below which a small leafy sub-canopy surmounted the braided trunks.  I am taking the entire upper canopy and branch structure off, a bit at a time.  When I am finished "topping" the tree, its sure-to-be compacted root ball will be first soaked in a manure bog, then pruned, soaked some more, and finally re-potted into a smaller container. 

The braided trunks reach a little under three feet in height.  As the mid-canopy re-grows atop this braid, I intend to try a modified growth-direction process so that the canopy will grow out more than it grows up.  

A three-foot tree is a lot more manageable than a six-foot tree when we are talking about a 150-square-foot patio garden.  And the really great thing about all this is, if the tree survives (which I expect it will - these things are seriously hardy), I can eventually take it with us to our "forever home" and plant it in the ground.  It will definitely have earned its retirement!