Declutter in Winter

                                                      Declutter in Winter.

       It is too cold to play hoops. It snowed about an inch yesterday, and it’s below freezing. It has been so for the last month.

       I dribble my ball on the wooden foyer that looks out into the icy driveway. The door leading into the hallway has windows on either side. The foyer has a large picture window just below the ceiling, where I shoot my basketball.  A Schefflera plant that Mom has been nurturing, since we bought the house nine years ago, occupies the foyer entrance in a large earthen pot. It was a tiny plant in a cup size pot then, but now it covers half the stairs leading to the top floor. There's a large mirror with a wooden frame.                     

     My mother reminds me to watch her plants, the window panes, the mirror, and the chandelier. She always says she’s positive I will not break anything but she warns me anyway. I see the UPS van backing into our driveway. I love it when we have a delivery. 

     “Looks like your Dad has ordered something.” My mother too is looking out the window. She doesn’t seem too happy.

       The UPS driver takes out a huge package and leaves it in front of the garage.

“Let’s get it into the garage. I wonder what this could be? We don’t need anything,” Mother says. 

      My sister, who has been sitting on the couch, joins us near the window to look at the package. My mother opens the garage door, and my sister and I run out to drag the parcel in. It’s freezing outside.

      “Watch out for the ice. You don't want to slip and fall.” Mother is hugging herself with her hands. She’s positive we will not hurt ourselves, but she tells us all the same.

       “It’s a sawing table, Mom,” my sister exclaims. “Dewalt job site table saw with stand. Wonder why Appa has bought a sawing table?”

       “ Looks like he wants to finish the basement on his own.” I say, remembering Dad saying that. My sister closes the garage and comes inside.

       “Finish the basement?” Mom asks. ”I’m not sure he can do that on his own. He has never done any carpentry work before.”

       My father loves to  accumulate tools from Home Depot. The garage and unfinished basement have more tools than one could ever need. I can see my mother is slightly annoyed.

      “Even a small repair around the house calls for a trip to Home Depot, and sometimes the work is accomplished without the tool. The brand new tools remain cozy in the Home Depot bag, and slowly, along with the bill, make it to the basement and stay there never used and add to the clutter.” My mother sighs.

      My mom goes back to the kitchen, my sister to her reading corner, and I to my basketball.

      The home phone rings. I run and answer it. 

      ‘It’s Appa calling,” I shout out. The phone is on speaker.

      “Hello! How’s your day been so far, Chinna? Just called to tell you to be ready in the evening. We have to go to Home Depot.” 

     “Why Home Depot? Your new saw table has arrived, Appa.” I’m looking at my mom.

     “To buy wood. We’ll make a dresser for Amma.”

      “Yay! Home Depot.” I'm excited. My sister just looks up from her reading and at Mom.

      Our minimalist Mom sits down on the kitchen stool. We see a small scowl on her face. She’s not amused.

      “Finishing the basement and building a dresser may help us declutter this winter.” Mom is positive that the sawing table could be a solution for the clutter.