It was a good thing that E was still holding Ernie is his arms instead of just letting him run down the stairs or it wouldn't have been such a funny story.
As for today, we started early. We were out the door before 9am to hit the hardware store to pick up paint for the planter boxes and the deck. But, there was no painting going to be completed as it has been raining all day. Instead I begrudgingly headed upstairs to my the office/craft room/dumping ground. When I say dumping ground, it is the only room that has not found its true purpose. It has become the graveyard for all lost items in the house. If we were unable to find a home for any particular item, it was abandoned in the office. We bought bookshelves to help with the organization which were quickly filled with books and magazines. Drawers....there are none making it difficult to hide office supplies and knitting tools away. The worst part of the mess was....IS...that I am spinning my wheels knowing the mess is hiding up there....waiting for me.
Remember yesterday when I was speaking of my childhood cleaning issues. My cleaning strategy is admittedly back asswards. I tend to pull the entire room apart making a bigger mess than I started with. Everything in drawers, cupboards and closets comes out and the well intended plan is to organize it and put it away. Did I mention that I also have a short attention span when it comes to cleaning and am easily distracted and quickly overwhelmed. For example, it might be that I find an item in the room I'm cleaning that belongs somewhere else in the house. I go to put it away and end up starting a new cleaning project in that room, completely forgetting or abandoning my original room which will remains in a state of disarray. Or, after spending a half an hour in the mess, I become so overwhelmed that I start having panic attacks so I have to "walk away" from the task at hand.
Well, today was a repeat performance. I took photos of the before (10:30 am) and the after (7:30) but I'm just not prepared to share them with you. Believe me when I tell you, there is not much difference although my paper shredder is full, I listened to some great music and I spent many hours perusing the McLean genealogy file I obtained. So, if anyone knows of Archibald McLean (my great, great, great grandfather) who emigrated from Scotland to Pictou, Nova Scotia (yes people, I have returned to my homeland...well, next door) in the 1800's, let me know. I'm looking for him. The hunt is far more interesting than cleaning. I'll get to that later.
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