So —
The end of summer is upon us. It’s time to abandon the garden and move back in to the house. I look around with new eyes — the coffee table is full of books and papers, and somehow I actually think I might read the books. I try to restack them in a more sensible way. The closet floor — who can live with all these shoes piled in such a mess? A horrible job, but I go through them ruthlessly. Since when has the refrigerator looked like a home for nesting baboons, with weird coffee stains on the milk shelf? Why are the pictures in the living room piled higglety pigglety along the plate rail?
Once you get started it’s not so horrible, although Saturday, the day I cleaned out the closet, was probably the most beautiful day in the history of the world — a very bad day to be stuck inside.
Sunday was birding class. It was nice to be outside, looking at a bunch of very confusing ducks, but I’ve got to figure out how to fit some hiking in, too, or I’m going to be very sad.
I guess the point is to get the inside ready to come back to — so I can sit on the couch and read those books in comfort, knowing the closet floor and the linen closet are all in order.
Nutty but true.
Reader's Guide to . . . 
When I moved in with Kent, into the house he owned, his basement was a disaster. I mean it was horrible and there was no reason for it. He lived alone in a four bedroom, two and a half bath house — two stories plus a basement. And the basement plus one of the bedrooms (lord I almost forgot that one) were awful. The bedroom had papers strewn everywhere on the floor, nearly halfway up my calves. The basement looked like it could star in a horror movie.
Those messes, even though I couldn’t see them, hurt me, they hurt my brain. OMG they hurt. He didn’t understand that, but he did clean them up.
So yes, knowing the closet floor and linen closets are in order would be very soothing to me.
Wow–
Although, honestly, it takes discipline not to have a house like that, especially if you’ve got the room. It takes constant throwing away effort. I’m hoping to finally get to the point where we’ve got a place to put everything, so that it’s clear that if something can’t be put somewhere, it’s because it needs to go out. Maybe that will make it easier to get rid of the stuff we don’t need.
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See, I’m the antithesis of a pack rat. I can only take so much decluttering before I just THROW IT ALL AWAY FOR EVER AND EVER!!!! I know, caps are excessive but that’s what happens. It takes more discipline for me to keep some stuff š
I’m getting there myself —
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Saturday was the most beautiful day in the history of the world here too. How strange. Luckily I was not cleaning out a wardrobe or waiting in for a delivery for once.
I envy you — if it’s nice this weekend, I’m going out no matter what.