Can you see it? It's the stuff that looks like snow, or else like my camera lense is really dirty. The towel was laid over the railing yesterday to dry. Good luck with that, my friend.
What you can't see--because I didn't take a picture of it--is my garden singing and dancing for joy. She's been a long, hot summer 'round these parts. Now, today, this rain and only eighty degrees. Had I known, I would have planned to spend the day cleaning out my attic, which is worse than ever.
No, that's a lie. I'll never clean out that attic. You know what my big dream is? Having enough money to hire a personal organizer to come put my attic to rights. That seems to fly in the face of the Ye Goode Housewife Rules and Regulations Handbook, but confess: don't you dream of hiring a personal organizer, too?
One thing I did do today was tear up magazines. I'm giving a lot of thought to what needs to happen with my house, aside from a thorough cleaning (I'm leaving that up to the personal organizer, whenever she comes around), and Sara over at Shiny Red Houses has suggested going through magazines and tearing out pictures of whatever catches my eye.
I subscribe to two "shelter" mags--Country Living and House Beautiful. As it turns out, most of the pictures of rooms I tore out came from Country Living, but the pictures I tore out of colors I loved came from House Beautiful.
Here's a strange thing: a lot of the colors I seem to love most are oranges and bright pinks. What's that all about? I'm trying not to edit myself as I rip, and I do keep ripping tropical hues. Won't the boys be excited? Actually, given that Will has an orange room, he may be very excited indeed.
I'm a writer and a stay-at-home mom who keeps meaning to mop the floors because I think it would make me happy if I did. I love books and music and writing, spend entirely too much time in the dentist's chair (I bet I have more crowns than you do), and used to think I was sort of bohemian, but now I wonder. No tattoos. Minivan. That story.