It has started. The weeding. The back-breaking, bond-bending, soul-emaciating weeding.
I began on Monday. Thirty minutes in the attic. It was all I was mentally capable of. I honestly thought I'd been in there an hour and a half. "No more!" I cried, running into the hallway. "I can toil no longer in that dark and gloomy cavern!" Or something like that, only with more cussing. I haven't been back in since.
I've poked my nose into Will's room a time or two, but I can't work up the mental and psychological energy to commence. If someone would give me permission to simply fill up four or five large trashbags with every last thing Will's room contains, I could do it. It's the parsing and sorting and redistributing I can't stand the thought of.
And then, for reasons I can not ascertain, I began on my study. The closet has been on my list for some time, but only in a sort of "ha ha, like that will ever happen" sort of way. Yet on Wednesday I began pulling out its contents and making piles of papers (it's all papers--school papers, church papers, publishing papers, stuff I've torn out of newspapers). I now have about ten pounds of paper that's headed straight for the recycling bin. The closet looks much better. My study, however, looks like I've been hosting Motocross races across the middle. Disaster. Another room I can no longer face.
Kitchen floor: still unmopped. Refrigerator: needs a good emptying out and scrubbing down. Boys bathroom: enter at your own risk.
However, I have been to see a lovely exhibit of El Greco paintings today, and tomorrow there's an exhibit of quilts downtown, and the boys are off camping with the Scouts, so I should get a lot of knitting done this weekend. Plus, I've been working on some nifty collages and reading Joan Acocella's Twenty-Seven Artists and Two Saints, which I highly recommend. What can I say? Yet again, Art triumphs over housework.
May it ever be thus.
Conclave
8 hours ago
5 comments:
Our loft [attic] is in DESPERATE need of a declutter. I agreed with my beloved over our meal tonight that in two weeks time, I shall order a skip [dumpster] It is the only way I will get rid of the junk up there -and in spare bedroom, and in the garage. If I have paid a man to deliver the thing, then I shall feel morally obliged to fil it.But oh...the sorting..and discarding...and sifting of memories. Not tomention spiders, and maybe mouse-droppings!!
See, I'm so glad I don't have an attic! You know, there's portals to alternate worlds up in attics? Just ask author Sharon Hinck LOL.
However, I have a dungeon. You would call it a basement, but we can't get to it from inside the house and it's cold and dark down there. Hence ~ Dungeon. It's filled with coffee machines and coffee cups and I steer clear. I've placed my gardening tools right near the door so I don't have to go more than two steps inside!
Do coffee machines breed? I think that we have 2 filter machines,2 cafetieres, a percolator, an electric espresso AND a stovetop espresso, and 2 grinders - plus 4 thermal coffee jugs. And a Starbucks apron [our daughter once worked for Starbucks and kept buying us coffee related gadgets!]
Hee hee (chuckles in recognition). I send the children up to the loft, thereby avoiding having to confront the junk.
Ah, ordering a dumpster ... now that's an idea I hadn't thought of, but would come in handy (particularly in regards to Will's room). Food for thought!
Tracy, your basement sounds scary, and eerily like the basement we had when we lived in Tennessee. Not only was it cold and dark, but there was a door down there, and when you opened the door, there was nothing ... just a drop into darkness. An old well, of course, but I never understood why they left an entrance to it.
Angela: Yes, coffee machines breed. All appliances breed and mysteriously refuse to be thrown away or donated.
Ali, turning the attic over to the children and not dealing with it is a brilliant idea. I may just try it!
Post a Comment