Tidy Up Time

Oh gods - how long had the house been so terrible?
We have been cleaning it, our distractions wrestled till there was room for tidier habits. Vacuuming has evolved to a regular sound; vacuuming through a shrinking floor space. Boxes of stuff: bottles for syrups, display cloths, kitchen kit for the van; the usual clutter of punch-pads and breaking boards, the pile of foraged cloth for projects.
It all has purpose, it all lacks organisation. We have crowded ourselves out of our home, crowded our time with doing: we have got used to it and irritable with it. Little by little we have stopped using our impeded desks. Then last Friday I was closing my eyes, except I was driving, and then stopped my car to breathe night air, afraid. Enough. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, these were all booked for work. On Tuesday there was room for rest, by which I mean I was gifted a day without needing to look at a clock, without obligation. After coffee, no need to be at home, clutter-haunted. Stuffed the car with fuel, jollied off to Tavistock with my best brogues and gaudiest coat. Rifled charity shops for a stack of books, a jumper in twists of pink and purple, a green pashmina, two vintage brooches; rested my bones with carrot cake and more coffee, sat swinging my feet on a cushioned bench. I bought a half round of creamy goat in Country Cheeses. Headed home, so laden, so richly indulged. Mrs Millionaire. Sat down, fell asleep. Woke to the sound of rain. Swapped town clothes for country, took Dog to get muddy. Tilted my face to the sky at the top of the hill. Then it was me, and the house, and - look at the clock or not - it was time. And before my eyes went closing again, the office had become habitable. Oh gods! My arms are aching. Typing hurts. But the next room is calling. There is a level of tidiness required for the mess to remain in play.


Tanza Erlambang said…
hope, everything goes well with you.
have a great day
Cherdo said…
Cleaning is either redemptive or torture. No middle ground. :-)
Lisa Southard said…
Thank you Tanza, hope you are having a great day also :-)
Lisa Southard said…
I think this was redemptive... :-)
I used to be very meticulous about keeping a clean and tidy house. Now? If the Department of Health doesn't come knocking on the door to declare our place uninhabitable, I'm good. Okay, so that's a slight exaggeration, but for sure, the older I get, the less I care about whether our kitchen floor is clean enough for anyone to eat off of it or not. (I mean, who wants to do that, anyway???) Still, there must be something ingrained in us that makes that traditional "Spring Cleaning" bug shame us into taking action every year. Time to organize, to straighten, to clean out those bloody closets and drawers no one else in the entire world gives a crap about or will ever see but us... WHY? (sigh) Perhaps it's so we can sit back and admire the results after we're done. Now that our company has left, I suppose it's time for me to start cleaning all of those elusive nooks and crannies, too.

But first? A nice cuppa and a couple cookies...
Susan Kane said…
We have a sign at the front door: Sorry about the mess but we live here.

I am finally attacking the guest room which has been the recipient of Christmas stuff, baby clothes, and quilting fabric.

When we moved from the house of 27 years to our new house, we had to do a major culling. It was both painful and freeing.

Over from DUTA. I'll be back.
Geo. said…
The sheer energy of your writing makes the whole busy shebang into a celebration of life. Brava!
Lisa Southard said…
I have a fear of blocked energy I think and that's what happens when you're raised by hippies :-)
I'll have a cuppa with you first though!
Lisa Southard said…
Excellent signage! 27 years is a long time to accumulate - but I'm glad there was a freeing :-)
Thank you for your visit, I will reciprocate.
Lisa Southard said…
*takes a bow, creaks back up.
Thank you - ran out of energy shortly after this, not too surprisingly! Hence not much blog interaction going on - I always miss this though :-)

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