Tuesday, April 17, 2012
On the inside.
The view from my yoga mat this morning. In case you were wondering, I wasn't doing yoga, but a series of ab and ass exercises I have mentally hoarded over the years; they aren't working, but I keep at it, because I am an expert at beating my proverbial head against a wall and then eating lots of tacos for dinner.
Ramona, thanks for reminding me that I owe you pictures--sometimes I forget those details, and then I look through a veil of sweat during a particularly grueling set of "fire hydrants" and I realize that this place is looking pretty good. Now. We have designated WHOLE rooms as storage closets, but if you are willing to overlook that issue, and the entire basement, then I think we can all agree that I have my sh#! together.
If I could pinpoint the single largest issue that I face with purging and organizing--it's CLOTHING. For the love of all things holy, there is clothing everywhere. To the point that I have to be strategic with the timing of my laundry, because closets and dressers CAN'T CONTAIN IT. The kids' stuff is the WORST, because it's hard to weed through all the great stuff I bought at the Gap on clearance back in 2006 (back when clearance MEANT something). Seriously retailers? Don't insult my intelligence by marking something down by $1.99 and calling it clearance--I once bought a leather jacket for like $7, so I know better. But anyway. Blue halter top with starfish pattern and a babydoll waist? Still relevant in 2012 and L NEVER grows, so we just keep accumulating this stuff that is so small, it's impossible to fold and appear clean and organized.
But all things considered, we are doing pretty good. I think we have properly identified our *necessities*, and made them readily accessible; it's what to do with five cases of mason jars, or entire BINS worth of pictures from the pre-digital era that perplex me. I know that I have a 3.5-year date with a photo scanner looming on the horizon, but for now, I am just hoping that the iphone comes out with technology that simply reads my brain and translates it into still images. Grandchildren, when I pull out boxes worth of photo albums of me in Cancun for Spring Break '96, act INTERESTED, because I'm preserving the history of rum runners for you.
I'm thinking that maybe I'll share a piece of the house with you everyday--as it ACTUALLY looks. If that means sparkling clean (insert ENORMOUS laughter), then so be it. If that means dust bunnies with gigantic fangs? Fair game. One shot a day, of the house's character. And please feel free to share your favorite tricks and voo-doo magic for organizing an entire life--and let's go with a theme of *cheap* and *easy*.
See you tomorrow, friends.