Ha - before I get sidetracked, Marty is home - qvetching and creaking and uncomfortable, but he's managing. Right now, sleeping in his favorite chair because it is better than the bed, the way he is feeling. I am about to go upstairs shortly. My mother is staying in hospital a few more days for physical therapy before she goes back to her assisted living. I may sign myself in somewhere before long! Tall Girl, my sense of adventure is stretched a bit these days - but I have to find the humor somewhere.
This morning I read an article about how every January 2, cluttered people go out and buy containers, boxes, files, and other things that promise to make them neat and organized. WRONG. Clutter is not a space problem, said the article - it is a person problem. True enough! Just think of all the people you know who live in tiny spaces (or whose studios are small) and how many of them are uncluttered. These saintly souls actually THROW THINGS OUT. On the other hand, the brains of people who save things register high anxiety when faced with having to decide what to keep and what to throw.
Sigh...as I plow my way through the papers and garbage in my studio, YET AGAIN, I realize it will always be my problem. I just threw out piles of paper and reorganized a shelf or two of my bookcase. I have six empty plastic boxes: empty because I have no room for them if they are full; this way, I can stack one inside the other and put all the lids on top.
Of course, if I wanted to use them for storage, I would have to buy another bookcase. But I don't have room for one.
All this leads me to the fact that I am ready to dispose of some small pieces that I had put away in one of those boxes. I will sell them for half of what the price was for these and other pieces in the series. Tune in tomorrow. I am going to bed.