I've found myself in a bit of a muddle.
It's not just that there's washing to do after the holidays.
There's always washing. My friend Catriona has what she calls a Clothes Mountain which she frequently attempts to conquer. I find myself in snowdrifts. Darks. Lights. Handwashing (never gets done.) Towels.
Then there's the overflowing boxes of toys. The boxes in the corner of outgrown-toys for the Salvation Army. (And as long as they're there and not actually at the Salvos the kids continue to hurl things out of then looking for an obscure small plastic special irreplaceable must-find-it-immediately toy.)
The spare room. With remaining baby stuff not yet given away. A pile of very small shoes on the middle of the bed, pulled out, I think, from another so-called Salvos box.
Piles of paper. Piles and piles. Wasn't I going paperless?
Tupperware that topples out of the cupboard on top of me when I open the doors.
And, So. Many. Books.
No wonder we no longer fit into a shipping container when we move. What is it, forty feet long?
So this is it. It's Spring Cleaning time.
Time to get rid of some stuff.
My fabulous neighbour Clare and I have decided to have a tandem garage sale, if that's even a term. We're going to find a Saturday sometime in the next month and clear the decks. Whatever's left we'll take to the Salvos.
I've never had a garage sale, I'm not sure if it will be fun or awful, but Tilly is sure to love it. (An audience! In her front yard!)
My sister Suzie put me onto Flylady years ago now. I quite like Flylady's principles. The kitchen sink thing is very valid although I very rarely actually accomplish it (make sure it's empty and clean every night). I'm more a happy sufferer of her CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome) although of course I do anyway and just ask them to move the newspapers off the couch or the elaborate car racetrack off the coffee table.
Anyway, deep breath. Empty box in one hand and bookshelf in front of me.
Maybe a glass of wine will help.