…to achieve order, i must first create absolute chaos.
my grumpy old man belongs to the school of thinking that says if you can’t see it, it’s not messy. this means we have cupboards and drawers full of things-in-the-wrong-place and things-to-be-sorted and things-that-ought-to-have-been-thrown-away-long-ago, but are all now just stuffed away wherever he could make them fit.
i, on the other hand, don’t really mind a bit of clutter in full view (makes a place look lived in, doesn’t it?) but stuff crammed in any which way and welling out like some creature from the dungeon dimension every time i need something? no.
therefore, i have decided to start the new year by Creating Space. (as long as i know everything has a place, i don’t care if it’s not there all the time.) this is a complicated process; a mix of cleaning, sorting, trashing, and getting stuck in nostalgia when i find something i had completely forgotten about. (mainly melodramatic poems and old letters.) in the end though, there will be Neat Piles and Things Of A Similar Nature In The Same Place, and most of all there won’t be that dreadful niggling cheating-at-solitaire feeling i get when i know my effort was half-arsed.
(there is a huge difference between good! and just good enough.)
today’s result: i took five big bags of things to the charity shop. i found the pattern i made a year ago for a tiny little felt raven, and the picture of magnus with no shirt on and the picture of blue with elf ears badly attached. (i put them on the hall mirror.) i can actually both open and close the drawers in the escritoire without having to resort to excessive swearing. there is a drawer for Things Used For Sticking Things To Other Things. there is another drawer for Things Used For Cutting Things In Various Ways. One for patterns and one for pens and paper, and one for Things That Are Fairly Useless But Pretty And May One Day Come In Handy.
tomorrow, i shall tackle the Linen Closet of Doom.