I have been looking at this mountain of boxes from my old house. Each item in evey box has to be taken out and put into one of three piles: attic, consignment, trash. I was in a large house of (8) rooms and now I have 2.5 rooms. This is a laughable matter. I have been looking at these boxes for the past 2 months since we moved in. I kept telling myself I need to go through (2) boxes per day. The thought itself just wore me out.

The other day, I determined I would go through (2) boxes each day and start organizing. Each box has to be gone through because there are somne things I know I want in my present life. I also have to conisider what I want to keep in case I get a different life in the future. If I am able to work and start a new life, allowing my son and his wife to have a normal married life w/out a mother-in-law underfoot. Its a contingency. And then there is always the trash, where items no one has any interest in and there is no value to, some items will end up there.

Yesterday, I carried on the task I started the day before, except this time, I really got into it. I don't know how many boxes I went through but they were all either put out back empty or taken to the attic for future use. I found places for the few things I retrieved from the boxes and re-organized the furniture. A few paintings some of my artist friends gave when I was in the hospital, were hung on convenient nails the previous owner used. Just the thought of taking out the nails and spakling the wall and painting it the correct shade again is mind-boggling at this point. I hung clothes in my closet and organized linens and took summer clothes from the bureau and placed them in a box, soon to be placed in the attic. My son tells me we have a whole 'nother house up in the attic, that its huge! That's a good thing.

I found after all was said and done, I had a whole 'nother room! It felt like it. My living room doubled in size. I love walking into it, it looks really nice.

My efforts harken me back to earlier times and I have to laugh at myself. In some things, everything has to be perfect for me. I wouldn't call myself a perfectionist or anal...well, are there degrees to anality (is that a word???)? When we moved into our first house, I was preparing for a my first party for the wives of frineds with whom I husband grew up. They were gang and knew each other since elementary school. I cleaned that house like a madman. I cleaned upstairs, I cleaned downstairs. I think I even cleaned any spiders I came across! Once, I went into the kitchen and as I looked up at the ceiling, I noticed there were splatters above the stove on the ceiling. Well, those can't be there, what would the ladies think? I got a rag and some good cleaning fluid and I scrubbed those splatters. Yes, indeed, I made short shrift of them. When I was finished, I, in my Michaelangelo mode, stepped back to admire my work. As I did so, I noticed the place where I cleaned was far cleaner than the rest of the ceiling! So I ended up scrubbing the whole blessed ceiling. And you know? I don't think any one of those girls even looked up to admire my efforts!

Another time, when we had just moved into our second new house, our minister was going to come and see us. We had a one floor home but we were planning to build up to make two stories, as there was an unfiniished story upstairs. We also had a basement. For a minister to come and visit, cleanliness is next to Godliness, right? Well, I scrubbed the main floor, top to bottom. I cleaned and organized the drawers in all the rooms, I was the posse that hunted down and destroyed any cobwebs lurking in the corners, none could hide from me. I re-organized the kitchen cupboards in case the minister wanted to help himself to a glass or cup of something.

Then, I looked at the basement. Well, the minister might want to see that as part of the tour of the house. Off I went to scrub down the basement and re-organize the junk that was placed down there. I cleaned the windows in the basement and found and destroyed all cobwebs again. I swept and swept the concrete floor. I don't know how many years of dust I swept up but unfortunately, there always more for me to sweep. I eventually had to give up that task.

Since the second story was unfinished, my husband might want to take the minister up there and show him our plans we had for that area. Where the bedrooms were to be located, etc. Up I went to clean and polish. There was finished flooring upstairs. I cleaned the windows, everything I could think of. Nothing was safe against my rag.

I had just enough time to get myself looking suitable and looking like the only thing I had done all day was eat bon-bons before my husband came home and the minister arrived. Also, I made some wonderful hors d'oeuvres and I stowed in some wine and beer.

The minister arrived on time, came in and sat down on the couch and never moved. We had a lovely, relaxing time with him. And I had a very clean house...for awhile until my little rascals worked their magic of mess.

My present abode is almost there...I mean clean and organized. I still have some more organizing and I have to shampoo the rugs. For now, though, I am taking a rest for a couple of days and enjoy my friends this weekend. Enjoy your family and friends. Take Care.

PS: I did sleep well last night...