DIFFERENCES

As I struggle with my clutter, Bill seems to be struggling with his own issues. I see things differently than he sees them. I see CLUTTER, he sees unfinished chores that need doing. The thing is, my younger son and his family are coming for Thanksgiving. They have not been "home" since Bill and I have been living together, and have not been "home" since we renovated the house.

I am seeing my clutter as a negative reflection of my personal comptence . I finally realize that Bill is seeing certain aspects of the house/home as a reflection upon his capabilities as my partner and soul mate. I want the clutter of my studio area organized, he wants grass growing and the driveway sealed; I want the cellar dejunked and straight and ready for workshop projects, he wants the shingles/shakes cleaned and stained.

It has been really hard for me to understand these differences. My inability to see them has resulted in many an argument. BUT, I'm learning.

DECLUTTERING BEGINS

Some progress was made today. I cleared off the table. Doesn't sound like much, but any is some. The mental preparedness is probably the first big hurdle. Deciding that it has to be done is tough. I have lived in this house for going on forty-five years. I came here as a child of twenty-six with two young boys, Jeffri was four, Scott one.


When we did the renovation is 2001 there was quite a bit of sorting but mostly schlepping. I am a saver. My dad was a saver. His mother was a saver. I have some stuff that HE saved. And this is the sentimental stuff that tears at the heart to discard. Somethings just belong. Do they get passed down forever? No! Eventually it will mean nothing and get tossed. Better I make some decisions now so that the boys don't have to make hard decisions later and struggle with guilt. I can do the guilt now.

CLUTTER

This is clutter. A lot of clutter. MY clutter. I spend a lot of time in this corner of clutter and it is cluttering my brain and hindering my creativity. I really believe that if there was some order here in this corner, I would be more productive, more creative, and maybe even less tense. This is getting me down. It is making me crazy. I have become a motiveless, goaless, slovenly individual.

Am I a little down on myself right now? You bet. Am I frantic in my clutter? You bet. Am I doing anything about it? Nope.

This is more clutter. My clutter. This is my corner of the "studio" so no one is responsible for this mess but me. I am setting it out here for publication in the hopes that I will be motivated to DO something about it. Shame myself, so to speak.

There are a few problems here. One, I am a saver. Two, I like to work on more than one thing at a time. Three, I never seem to put anything way. Four, there isn't an "away" place for all of the "things." Five, I would rather play that work. Six, I have tons of of UNfinished creations. And that's another thing -- I LOVE to start things. I have an inspiration and be gung ho that creation for a while only to lose interest and then the chaos of it is left behind.

This is my mess; the other half of the "studio" is filled with Bill's mess whch is in probably a worse state of cluttered chaos than mine. Between the two of us...... well, there it is. Double clutter, double chaos, double frustration.

PULLING WEEDS

Summer may have ended, the heat has not. I do not turn on the AC because it does cool off at night. But the heat of the day is pretty yuk. This morning as I finished my thirty minutes on the treadmill, the sweat was dripping off my chin and running into my ears. Heat and humidity. And the percent of rain expected today -- 30%. Not going to happen.

Being overcast, and being damp, and maybe the ground has been misted, I think I will run up to church and pull some more green growth out of the curbing of the driveway. Really! We need for the church to look like we care for it. I mean really care for it. Care enough to toil, to sweat some more. I want to get this stuff pulled up so that I can repaint the yellow stripe along the curbing. Won't that be nice. A crisp yellow line that says we care here. We want you to see that we put our time and effort into preparing for your presence here. Come!

MOURNING SUMMER'S END

School has resumed. Bill is back on the school bus driving schedule. That means I am back on the schedule too. Summer is really over. I don't know whether I am mourning it as much as I am resenting it being over. I feel as though I am missing something. Something important and I don't know what it is or where to even look for it.

The only get away time we took was the four days in the Berkshires. Perhaps I am regretting that we did not take more time to just be away from the responsibilities of the house. The thing is -- I love being home. I love this house. I love the yard. I love the feeling of being able to be whatever I want to be and do whatever I want to do -- or not.

Ah, maybe that's it. I didn't DO. Didn't write. Didn't do color pencils. Didn't work on my icons. Didn't knit. Didn't practice anything at all whatsoever. Maybe I am feeling the guilt of time gone by without accomplishment -- something to show for the time. Perhaps, though, this is my own way of renewal. No pressures, no time constraints, no meetings, no obligations. Just allowing time to flow around me and through me and slow me down enough to let me be me.

CRISIS CLEANING

Crisis cleaning is really not a good thing. For one, it reminds me that the crisis should not have happened in the first place. Two, I am frantic and probably not very sane during the cleaning process. Bugs. Little tiny black wheat bugs. In my upstairs bathroom. Hmmmm, no wheat here. Everything comes out of the bathroom cupboard, scooped haphazardly and quickly onto the floor. And left behind? Yuk, tiny, little, black wheat bugs. EWWWWW.

I don't know if they are really called wheat bugs. I just know that they turn up in wheaty things that have been around too long -- pasta, cereal, 'wheaty' stuff. In this case, dog biscuits. I have run up against these things downstairs in the kitchen cupboards when they have caused crisis cleaning there. I have learned to keep track now. Perhaps I should augment some of the sorting and tossing that is going on over at Jeffri's. My sister routinely goes through every drawer and cupboard in her house so she doesn't ever do the crisis cleaning of my ilk.


Sometimes I think my life needs some crisis cleaning. I let things go. They pile up. I get crazy. And then the crisis energy starts. Meeting deadlines, downloading and filing a kazillion digital photos, organizing my desktop -- again, making phone calls, returning e-mails, and on and on and on. Maybe if I were more methodical in my housekeeping and in my life activities, there would be no crises. But then, would I be me?

POST TRAVEL

Safe Home as the family informs one another upon their return from a trip. And I have even done the dreaded unpacking so that now I can actually enjoy the memories unencumbered. I took very few pictures. I seem to have to be in the mood for picture taking. Or have some plan in mind for their use. Lacked that motivation this time.

The Monet exhibit, Drawings and Pastels, was a good fill in for other Monet exhibits I have seen. And the display of many of his sketchbook pages gave me new insights for Moleskin usage. In fact later that same day in a Borders outlet I came upon the Moleskine sketchbooks for $2.99. Grabbed some of those suckers.

From Monet at the Clark Institute we went down to the Norman Rockwell Museum. Much different than when the museum was down the street from the Red Lion Inn. This museum is quite put together, paintings nicely spaced, audio clear and interesting. I remember as a young, young girl going to my grandmother's house and sorting through the stacks and stacks of Saturday Evening Posts looking for Colonel Stoopnagle's. And, yes, we appreciated the covers too. Rockwell was a genius at catching the meaningful moment of life.

Gabriel survived the night at the Animal Inn. In fact we were told that he was a quiet and enjoyable guest. I may take him there again on another trip.

And discussion on the way home was enlightening and hopeful. Yes, we can change our attitudes and our behaviors and make better choices for ourselves to make all relationships better. Life is good.