"What's in your closet?"

I have a walk in closet.

Technically, aren't ALL closets walk in? You open the door and you could go in there and sit a spell. Isn't that where the monsters live or where the secret door to Narnia is located?

Mine is small by todays standards. 6 feet by 6 feet lined by shelving and two full wardrobe bars. In colonial days this would have been considered a pretty nice bedroom. In comparison to most of my friends living in more updated and modern homes built after 1990,  it's mini. I just visited my friends closet, where there were three levels of hanging bars , built in dressers, shoe case , enormous staging island in the center of the closet and a full length mirror with a chair beside it to sit down and contemplate what outfit to wear with which shoes. I guess you'd say it was a "fantasy closet" except she lives just up the road from me and I had no idea this beauty of a wardrobe was hiding in the back of the master bedroom. It has more square footage in it than my master bedroom and bath combined. But lets get back to mine and leave the fantasy closet.

My closet  holds a lot.

Unfortunately, most of it isn't clothing. The closet also serves as a catch all, hide all and storage unit for books, games, luggage, hiking and camping gear, Christmas decorations, old school projects, hats, puzzles , umbrellas, work gear and trophy display ( to remind us of our glory days as pseudo athletes and performers.)

The closet gets cleaned out every 3-4 years. . . . okay, 5 to 6 years.

It got to the point of total disarray and disservice when we could no longer open the closet door and step in to reach our clothes without climbing over the junk and balancing on various shoes. We got an extendable  grabber so we could get to the stuff on the top shelf and reach the clothes in the corner. Sadly, they never made their way back and got stuffed into the closet. Yes, I am a mess. There is no Hazel or Alice, or any kind of valet service here. It's a one woman show and it ain't pretty!

When it got to the point that the closet door would no longer shut and hide our mess, we decided it was time to purge. The closet was literally vomiting its contents out the door and no shoving, shoveling or shifting would change it.

First out were the shoes. An easy task for Mr. Man. Keep half, throw the rest away. He whittled his shoe count down to 10 pair.

Not so easy for Big Foot. I keep every shoe I can stick on my feet because of the fear of not being able to find another pair. Granted, most of my shoes were of the flip flop category. I dumped out my shoe basket, brought down all the shoe boxes where I kept only the best shoes and did an over all survey. My wardrobe of the last 30 years could have been recreated from my finds. Tough to get rid of those KEDS that fit but hurt and now have rotted from being twisted and crushed at the bottom. Gone are the $100 velveteen heels worn 2 hours and removed after the toes started to hemorrhage and I left the formal affair barefooted and carried the shoes home to be boxed safely amongst the lost and forgotten.

The short story is we got rid of 31 pairs of shoes and sandals.

10 pair were thrown in the trash- Horrified that they were even living in my house and even more horrible that we thought we would wear them again. They should have been picked up by Hazmat !

Shoes out of the way, the clothing weeding began. Still waiting to fit back into my disco outfit from 1977 and the cowboy outfit from my western days of 1983!

I purchased organizers for my various accessories. . . . my 4 necklaces, 2 belts and 5 hats. (not a fashion maven. . . you should have picked up on that from the disco-western reference)

The most amazing find was the basket of socks buried in the darkest depths, which make up the lonely sock club. Not one has a match. There are 50 singles. How can that be? I'm contemplating braiding them into a 50 yard rope but I live in a single story so really no need for that! Crafts abound for old sock use but certainly I don't need 50 of anything! No need to hang on to those singles of toddler socks any more now that the toddler is 30 years old!

I have 12 sweaters all worn 2 times and in all shades of black and blacker. Its never cold enough here to wear them. WHY do I have so many????   Parted with 4 from 1997-2005 era and ditched the maxi skirt I thought was so stylin'  but in fact incredibly ugly and not one friend said anything in warning! It looks ugly on the hanger and horror of horrors I wore it in public!

Now that the closet is cleaned out, reorganized, dusted and mopped, I feel accomplished! Isn't that always the way?

I've etched on the door frame the month and year this clean out occurred. . . . maybe it will guilt me into doing this every year.

How many shoes are in YOUR closet?  Take them out and count. It will shock you.
I still have a lot of purging and sorting to do but feel that it's an ongoing process.

Good luck with your purge and clean out. Just do it.

"Do you know Jalama?"

 

I have returned from a long camping vacation at the sea shore . It is one of my favorite places on the planet. But Why?

There is no internet service, cell phone service, shopping or amenities. It boasts 8 showers that gives you warm water for 2 minutes for  a quarter. The cold water for the 1 minute warm up included.. There is a small camp store that sells overpriced groceries and miscellaneous camping necessities, clothing , beverages of anything conceivable, and has a tiny short order kitchen selling a variety of fried foods and a famously delicious burger worth every penny.

It's 17 curvaceous miles from a main road, which can be difficult to drive for the car sick and faint of heart.

It's 22 miles from the nearest town of Lompoc, a predominately military town that is famous for it's flower fields in spring and the sleepy La Purisma Mission.

There is electricity only. No water or sewer hookups. Water rationing and black/grey tank management are essential if you stay for a number of days.

My trailer is parked 300 to 400 yards from the ocean by choice. It could be ocean front and on the sand, 100 yards from the water, but that is just too sandy and windy.

It's not the prettiest beach I've been to. The water is generally too cold to swim in without a wet suit, and there are strong rip tides and undertows waiting to drag you out to the oil rigs miles out in the distance. The sand is coarse. It is usually windy here and getting a sandblast to the face is your reward for sitting on the barren beach. There is a lifeguard on duty on the weekends, only until labor day, but usually no one to save from the rough ocean because few people venture out into the water past their ankles due to rapidly frozen toes. Any other day during the fall and winter weeks, you're on your own. (Hopefully you read the signage posted at every entry point  on how to save yourself if you are swept away. )

If you're lucky, you can escape the beach without the naturally occurring tar coming ashore sticking to your feet or shoes. (never go here without Googone!), or if you're into canoe making, collect it to seal your craft like the Chumash Indians did.

So what makes this the favorite place to camp beachfront in California for so many people? If you ask any one, "Do you know Jalama?" the people who do know it always say, "It's wonderful there!"

It's the beach where my children  long to go to. It's where they were allowed to roam freely and be independent while being safely gated by the beach camp itself.

They did their first ocean fishing here.

The dolphins, sea lions and sea otters frolic here and swim along the shore line to follow you. The whales can be seen migrating off the coast here.

We saw our first meteor that turned the night sky blue-purple -red - orange .
The nearby air force base flew practice runs of its Stealth fighter along the beach here. So close, that we could see the pilot.

It's the place we choose to spend precious vacation days at. It's one of the few places I know of that my beloved Captain Morgan can run freely, as far as you can see and not run into another person or dog. You feel as though you are the only one on the planet and can almost reach out and touch God.

I can sing out of pitch as loudly and as often as I want. I can scream, run, dance, frolic, all without judging eyes or  within ear shot of a living soul.

Our best camping memories are of Jalama. Relaxing, uninterrupted days, doing whatever I want, sleeping as much as I want, reading all day , painting, you name it. The days go by quickly.

I don't even have to cook if I choose to wander down to the Jalama store and buy a meal. (it just has to be before 6:30 pm).

Every person you talk to has another favorite story and experience.

We've seen strange and unusual people here. Had our longest laughs here and made lifetime memories. It's the home of Jalama Llama's, the Jalama dumpster fire, the BBQ flank steak disaster, the night the high winds encased our friends in a tent collapse and looked like sausage links, the great motor home BANG! and blow out.  The duct taped tent repair in hurricane force winds", The medical evac of a fallen skateboarder. Then, there's the weird camp neighbors named for their various background stories. . . "Bakersfield", "The Butcher", " The Obstetrician", "the Soon to be headless Drunk", "Jalami Salami", "Jalama Long Jugs",   "Sad and Alone", "Trunk full of dauchsunds", "California Bea", " Real Coke",

Many fine memories and many more to make in the coming years.

I encourage you to find your own little slice of heaven and revisit it as often as possible.

Journal your memories.

Here's to many more Jalama days on Jalama time!