For smart people, tidying the house is a day to day thing. But in the House of the Needles', tidying is not a day to day thing. Its more of a thing to be done when you just can't stand it any more. Sort of.
I really like organization. I love it when things have a place and a place has its things. In my ideal world, every book would have a shelf to go to, every yarn would have a home, and every magazine would have a magazine holder and would be codified and identified on the back cover by the projects with in it. Relaxing happens when things are organized.
Conversely, I have a very high tolerance for piles and indeed consider that piles are a form of organization. If I had not accepted this, I'd have gone crazy just with the piles of books that populate my spaces. I have nooks and crannies filled in one room with my yarn (one except for the other acrylic yarn that is in the TV cabinets) and it is only now as the end of the my orgy of stashing comes to an end (stop laughing..really it will happen), that I am even close to filling my available spaces and I haven't even had to be creative yet.
But at the same time, I have so many bits and pieces that are out of their homes, all over my house, that the place looks like a mess. Underlying all the things out of place is what I'd like to believe is a reasonably clean place. (I'd like to believe it, I'm not sure it is true).
So every once in a while, I take the time to put everything away. Usually it is when I have company coming. Like this weekend.
Truly, there are times when I wish I had company coming more. Because the last few months I have managed to have an unbelievably stoic sort of tolerance for things out of place, since my hide-o-meter went into high mode, lets just say, there are a lot of things out of place. There are movies on the cupboard behind the breadbox, there are plastic bags in the mixer bowl, there are shed antlers on the fireplace, there are still a couple of Christmas ornaments on one shelf, there is the mail pile nightmare, the book pile by the stairs, there are dirty socks by the computer - don't ask, there is a stock of bandages (for the fella with the hopefully healing leg) where bandages just should not be, there is the pile of recyclable cardboard that needs to go....and on and on.
So I am going to have to leave work early, to get things done, so that when my sister comes, she will think I have just been sitting pleasantly knitting awaiting her arrival. This is my fantasy.
Of course she knows better, she knows there was work done before she arrived and she also will see that it did not all get done. She will not care. She has lived with me away from our mothers house and knows my flaws. We will hug and settle down with a good cup of coffee and we will talk and talk and talk, and the tidiness of the house will be something both of us will ignore for the really important things.
My sisters are my bestest friends.
1 comment:
have the best time with your sister.
Post a Comment