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14 January 2009 @ 06:20 pm
 
My house is a bit of a mess. Specifically, my office is a complete disaster, but since it's bloody freezing out there, I'm not going to fuss over it until spring. As to the rest of it, I need to buckle down and have a thorough 'go through everything and discard unwanted/unused/unnecessary items' day. Or week, more like. It's only then I can start to think about organizing everything else.

Thing is, I'm an utter failure at keeping things tidy. Clean, yes. That I can do. Uncluttered? Not so much.

I made a start of it today, on the house and on myself: sorted out the recycling. Did a load of laundry and put away clean linens that have been sitting atop the dryer for weeks. Bought a pair of tweezers and shaped my eyebrows (which might be more notable had I ended up with even remotely identical shapes). Trimmed my bangs (if you tilt your head, they look even). Chopped kindling, Ingallsed the inside log rack, cleaned out the wood stove. Stacked papers with recipe snippets and ideas next to the folder full of same.

I know it doesn't seem much. It's all about gathering momentum. Today my bangs, tomorrow fully organized closets!
 
 
I feel: determineddetermined
 
 
 
Ratesjul: somewhere out thereratesjul on January 15th, 2009 07:03 pm (UTC)
Ingallsed?
Kel: geekladyjoust on January 21st, 2009 05:07 am (UTC)
There's a chapter in one of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books (is it 'On the Shores of Silver Lake'?) where Ma and Pa are away. There's a blizzard moving in. Laura and Mary recall a story wherein children, on their own, were trapped by a blizzard. They burned up every stick of furniture to try to keep warm, but the storm outlasted the supply of furniture, and they froze to death.

With that in mind, and with the storm rushing in, Laura and Mary move every last stick of the woodpile into the house. By the time they finish, snow is melting off of the scraps of wood. I clearly recall they had to mop it up. Anyway, when Ma and Pa return home, they praise the girls for their tenacity. Or something like that.

I told Don this story all of ONCE... and yet, whenever I replenish the indoor woodpile, he remembers, and brings it up. Over time, it's morphed into a sort of shorthand: when the log rack is well stocked, it's 'Ingalls-ed.'

I know. We're an inexpressibly dorky couple.

Edited at 2009-01-21 05:07 am (UTC)
Ratesjul: world booksratesjul on January 21st, 2009 06:44 pm (UTC)
Ahhh, I remember that part of the story. :)
I don't remember which book it's in - and I haven't read the books in a very long time. But, surely, if it was Mary moving the woodpile, it would be before she went blind?

Cool name for it, though! :)