Declutter Before You Die?

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Lilacs are a sure sign of Spring in New England

🌸  My Spring Cleaning Adventure Begins

Spring in New England: Flowers, Mud… and Decluttering

Ah, spring in New England.
Fresh air, cool breezes, mud season… and flowers bursting out everywhere you look. It’s a lovely time to go hunting for blossoms — but it’s also the season of spring cleaning and decluttering.

Junk Luggers emails me weekly, just in case I forget they exist should I ever decide to take a backhoe to my closet.

My Slow‑Motion Decluttering Journey

I’ve been trying to declutter since last fall. I make small inroads, then stall out. I pick up the scrapbooks and, instead of tossing them, I settle in to reminisce with the cats. Needless to say, the scrapbooks have not left the room. In fact, I may be preparing to make more.

So what can I do to make decluttering even a little more successful?

AARP Says 30 Days… I Say 30 Months

According to AARP, it just takes a bit of planning and time management. They claim you can declutter your home in 30 days.
Huh. I doubt I could do it in 30 months.

AARP argues that you don’t want to leave a cluttered home behind when you die because it’s not fair to your survivors. It has a bit of an End‑of‑the‑World vibe. Instead of “Repent, the end is nigh,” it’s “Declutter before you die.”

Week 1: Bathrooms, Entryways, and Cars

Their first suggestion is to stay motivated. I guess that means not settling down with a stack of scrapbooks.

They recommend dividing the project into “achievable tasks.” For example, Week 1: spend 20 minutes a day cleaning bathrooms, entryways, and cars. Stick to the time, they say. Don’t try to do too much or you’ll burn out.

My Reality Check: Banner, Balboa, and a Missing Entryway

In my place, I only have the vanity to clean out. That could be a problem since getting on my knees means I need a crane to get back up.

Banner declutters the medicine cabinet- the resultsMy medicine cabinet is pretty empty thanks to Banner, who likes to open the doors and pull hairspray and other items onto the floor. My meds aren’t kept in the bathroom — too humid after a shower — so they live in a pretty box under the coffee table.

Balboa has reserved the shelf on the bathroom storage cabinet as his throne, so that’s clearly off‑limits.

I don’t have an entryway.
And my car? Everything is already corralled in a cargo box in the back: shopping bags, miscellaneous bits, and a small cooler from my DoorDash days. I already brought in the binoculars and the window cleaner.

So Week 1 is done… sort of… except for the vanity.

Time for a Break

I think it’s time for a break. I don’t want to overdo it and burn out. When I come back, we’ll tackle Week 2: Kitchen and pantry.

 

Spring in New England

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Ah Spring: A Season That Arrives When It Feels Like It

Daffodils are a sure sign spring is upon us

A Poem From the Past

Every now and then, a memory from childhood pops up and refuses to leave. Recently, I found myself thinking about a play we did in school — a bunch of hillbillies, a lot of flannel, and one truly unforgettable poem. It went something like this:

Spring has sprung,  
The skunks air out.  
Spring has sprung — just sniff about.  
Mating time is drawing near,  
You can smell it in the air.

Not exactly Shakespeare, but it captured something very real about spring in New England: you don’t need a calendar to tell you it’s coming. Your nose will do the job just fine.

The Calendar Says Spring… But New England Has Other Plans

Technically — officially — scientifically — spring begins on March 20 this year. The equinox arrives, the sun crosses the celestial equator, and somewhere far away, flowers bloom on cue.

But here in New England?
We don’t buy it.

Around here, spring doesn’t start when the calendar says so. Spring starts when the Red Sox take the field at Fenway Park. That’s the moment the region collectively thaws, stretches, and decides maybe — just maybe — winter is finally loosening its grip.

And since Opening Day at Fenway is April 3 this year, I guess true spring will be running a little late. Again.

Local Wildlife Confirms the Delay

If you need further proof, just ask the skunks. They’ve already begun their annual “perfume tour,” leaving unmistakable reminders that love is in the air — whether we want it or not. Nothing says spring quite like cracking open a window for fresh air and immediately regretting it.

Even the Cats Know Spring Is a Moving Target

Banner and Balboa have their own opinions about the season. Banner has already begun his warm‑weather routine of turning on lights with his teeth — a helpful service at 3 a.m., apparently. Balboa, meanwhile, has resumed his post by the sliding door, watching for birds, squirrels, and anything else that might signal the world is waking up.

They’re not convinced it’s spring yet either. And honestly? I trust their instincts more than the meteorologists.

Spring Will Get Here… Eventually

So while the rest of the country celebrates the equinox, we’ll be here in New England waiting for the crack of the bat, the roar of Fenway, and that first warm day that doesn’t immediately get followed by a frost warning.

Spring comes late here.
But when it finally arrives, it’s worth the wait.

 

The Great Photo Tagging Project

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Scout

Rediscovering a Blog That’s Been With Me for Years

I’ve started a really big organizational project. No, I’m not talking about cleaning out my closet. I’m talking about Arounddustyroads. I’ve had my blog for many years now. It’s grown and hiccuped its way along since around 2011. I honestly don’t remember my very first post, but I do remember being a little scared. Was I really going to share my thoughts and feelings with the big wide world?

Over the years I’ve set it aside for other things, but I always seem to come back to it. Reading older posts is like reminiscing with an old friend — familiar, comforting, and sometimes a little surprising. (“Did I really write that?” Yes. Yes, I did.)

When Your Media Library Turns Into a Digital Attic

Somewhere along the way, my media library turned into a full‑blown archaeological site. I’ve now got over 10,000 photos tucked in there, and finding just the right picture to illustrate a post has turned into a major scroll‑fest. It can take hours. By the time I find the photo I want, I’ve forgotten what the post was even about.

That’s when it hit me: this system is not sustainable. Something had to change.

Learning the Magic of Photo Tagging (A Little Late)

When I first started blogging, I didn’t even know you could tag your pictures. So most of my library is… well… let’s call it “mysterious.” Untagged. Unidentified. A giant pile of “good luck finding anything in here.”

So with help from my AI coach, I finally rolled up my sleeves and started going back through all of these photos and tagging them properly. And let me tell you — this is not a weekend project. This is a year‑long expedition.

Working Backward and Finding Hidden Gems

I’m working backward, starting with the most recent photos while the memories are still fresh. I figure if I’m diligent, I might actually get through the whole thing before the next ice age.

But here’s the surprise: it’s actually kind of satisfying. Every time I finish a page of photos, it feels like I’ve restored a tiny corner of my digital world. I’m rediscovering trips I forgot I took, meals I forgot I cooked, and sunsets I forgot I captured. It’s like flipping through an old scrapbook — only this time, I’m labeling the pages so future‑me doesn’t have to guess what she was looking at.

One Tag at a Time

It’s a big job, but it’s worth it. And when I’m done, finding the perfect photo for a post won’t feel like an archaeological dig. It’ll be quick, easy, and maybe even fun.

Do you tag your photos, or are you sitting on a digital mess of your own? I’d love to hear how you keep your pictures organized — or if you’re braver than I am and just scroll until something looks right.

 

Cast Iron 101: Easy Care for a Hard‑Working Pan

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Skillet Deep Dish Pizza (Pepperoni of course)

Skillet apple pies look as good as they taste

Skillet apple Pie

Cast Iron Care: What Every Skillet Lover Should Know

If you’ve followed my recipes for more than five minutes, you already know I’m a cast‑iron girl through and through. Skillet pizzas, cornbread, seared chicken, cobblers — if it can be cooked, it’s probably been in my pan.

And because I use mine so much, I get a lot of questions about how to care for cast iron. So let’s talk about what actually matters, what’s just old folklore, and the one thing you should never do… which I learned the hard way. (Twice, actually — but we’ll get to that.)

🥘 Myth: Cast Iron Is Delicate

Skillet Lasagna

Reality: It’s basically indestructible.

Cast iron is iron — heavy, tough, and built to outlive us all. I have pieces that have survived generations, yard sales, rust, and one dramatic move where a skillet somehow ended up in a snowbank.

And speaking of snowbanks… once upon a time, a well‑meaning roommate overheated oil, panicked when it caught fire, and launched my cast‑iron pan — still flaming — straight into a drift outside. The pan survived. My blood pressure? Less so.

If that doesn’t prove cast iron’s durability, nothing will.

🧼 Myth: You Can’t Use Soap

Reality: You absolutely can.

A little mild soap won’t hurt your seasoning. That polymerized layer is bonded to the metal — it’s not going to wash off with a drop of dish soap.

If you’re worried about lingering flavors, a quick baking‑soda scrub (2 parts baking soda, 1 part water) neutralizes odors without harming the surface.

Skillet Meat Loaf ( My absolute favorite)

🍅 Myth: Acidic Foods Will Ruin It

Reality: Short cooks are fine.

A quick pan sauce with wine? Totally okay. A tomato‑heavy braise simmering for hours? Maybe choose another pot. But everyday cooking won’t hurt a well‑seasoned skillet.

🔥 How to Season Your Skillet (The Simple Way)

  1. Wash with hot water (and soap if needed).
  2. Dry completely — water is the real enemy.
  3. Rub on a tiny amount of neutral oil.
  4. Wipe it out until it looks like you wiped it all off.
  5. Heat it until it just begins to smoke.
  6. Cool. Repeat if you want a deeper layer.

The more you cook, clean, dry, and lightly oil it, the better it gets.

🧽 How to Clean Cast Iron After Cooking

  • Remove food bits (soap is fine). (or scrub with salt)
  • If the flavor was strong, give it a baking‑soda scrub.
  • Rinse and dry thoroughly.
  • Add a whisper of oil, wipe it out, and warm it for a minute.
  • Store with a paper towel between pans if stacking.

❌ The One Thing You Should Never Do

Put it in the dishwasher.

Ask me how I know.

That same helpful roommate once tossed one of my favorite skillets into the dishwasher thinking they were doing me a favor. It came out gray, dull, and rough — like it had aged 40 years in one cycle. I’ve re‑seasoned it multiple times, and while it’s usable, it has never quite returned to its pre‑dishwasher glory.

Between the flaming‑snowbank incident and the dishwasher debacle, I’ve learned one thing:
Cast iron can survive almost anything… but your roommates might not.

Skillet Corn Bread

❤️ Final Thoughts

Cast iron isn’t fragile. It’s a workhorse. Use it for sweet, savory, and everything in between. Clean it, dry it, oil it lightly, and keep it out of the dishwasher. Treat it well, and your grandchildren will still be flipping pancakes in it someday.

Skillet Roast Chicken Breasts

 

 

St. Patrick’s Day in New England

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St. Patrick’s Day in New England: Where Tradition, Parade Routes, and a Whole Lot of Green Collide

Why St. Patrick’s Day Hits Different Up Here

In most parts of the country, St. Patrick’s Day is a fun little holiday—wear something green, maybe have a beer, maybe listen to a fiddle tune or two. But in New England? It’s practically a season. The Irish roots run deep here, especially in Boston, where St. Patrick’s Day isn’t just a date on the calendar—it’s a cultural event, a family tradition, and sometimes a political lightning rod.

Growing up around here, you learn early that March 17th is not to be taken lightly. The parades, the music, the food, the crowds, the weather (which can be anything from sunshine to sideways sleet)—it’s all part of the charm. And even when the parade gets tangled up in local politics, the spirit of the day never really fades. New Englanders are nothing if not persistent.

A Little History, Because We’re Nothing If Not Thorough

St. Patrick himself wasn’t Irish by birth, but he became the patron saint of Ireland after spreading Christianity across the island in the 5th century. Over time, March 17th became a day of remembrance, celebration, and—eventually—green everything.

But here’s the twist: St. Patrick’s Day as we know it is actually more American than Irish. Irish immigrants in cities like Boston and New York turned the holiday into a public celebration of identity, resilience, and community. The first recorded St. Patrick’s Day parade in the U.S. happened in the 1700s, and Boston has been proudly carrying the torch ever since.

Today, the South Boston St. Patrick’s Day Parade is one of the biggest in the country. Bagpipes, marching bands, veterans’ groups, dancers, floats—you name it, it’s there. And yes, every few years the parade organizers and the city find something new to argue about, but that’s just part of the tradition at this point. If New Englanders aren’t debating something, are we even awake?

The New England St. Patrick’s Day Experience

There’s a certain rhythm to the day around here:

  • Corned beef and cabbage (which, fun fact, is an American invention—but don’t tell anyone’s grandmother).
  • Irish soda bread that ranges from “heavenly” to “doorstop,” depending on the baker.
  • Green everywhere, from hats to hair to the Charles River (Chicago dyes theirs; we just let ours stay its natural shade of questionable).
  • Bars packed by noon, because it’s tradition, not poor planning.
  • Weather roulette, because March in New England likes to keep us humble.

And through it all, there’s this wonderful sense of community—neighbors greeting each other, families gathering, and everyone claiming at least a little Irish heritage for the day.

A Toast to March in Massachusetts

With the Ides of March behind us and yesterday’s Plymouth Rock post already up on the site, St. Patrick’s Day rounds out a surprisingly festive stretch of mid‑March. It’s a reminder that even in the tail end of winter, New England knows how to celebrate—loudly, proudly, and with plenty of green.

And after today’s festivities, who knows where March will take us next?