Small victories. Enough said.

Our baker's rack has 2 shelves above a fairly large cupboard. At the top part of the cupboard, there are 2 shallow drawers. The inside of the cupboard itself is roughly 40" wide, 18" tall and 18" deep. It has the potential to hold a lot of stuff, but there was so much wasted space inside, because we didn't have a bunch of tall things to take up that much height. 


So yesterday, after almost 10 years of knowing we needed some sort of a shelf in there, I finally got around to making it. I only made the shelf 8" deep, so we still have room in the front for some taller items, but now all the smaller things can be stored more neatly, and I can get the bowls off the pot rack on the wall. They just looked cluttered up there, and it's so nice to have it look clean and uncluttered. Now, the only things on the top of the pot rack are the stock pot and the colander. No more plastic.


I did a bit of culling while I was in the baker's rack, too. I got rid of several lids that went to containers we no longer have, and I gave Bugster a few bowls that she can use. I'm sure I'll weed out more here and there, but I'm okay with what I have left at this point. 


I did have a little breakthrough when I was working on the shelf. It's just a breakthrough in my thinking. I covered the entire shelf in shelf paper, so I knew that both the top and bottom of the shelf would be clean enough to come in contact with bowls we use to prepare our food. Because I didn't use several small pieces of shelf paper, there were a lot of wrinkles by the time I was finished. 


Lots and lots of wrinkles.


And. I. just. left. them.


The old me would have had a conniption over the wrinkles. I would have spent hours trying to get the paper as smooth as possible. I would have been extremely frustrated with the fact that I not only hadn't done it perfectly, but that I had wasted so much time trying to make it perfect. The old me would not have been strong enough to just shrug the wrinkles off and say, 'forgetaboutit!'


But this is the new me. 


I am stronger than the wrinkles, and I refuse to let them take me hostage. Years from now, I may replace the board. Years from now, it may hold the same board that's currently holding my small plastic bowls.


But for now? 


The wrinkles stay.