
Sometimes I’m too busy keeping a foot in every door, that I’ve no time to mind the clutter that has crept through my own. I take pride in creating a pretty and cozy home, with all of those personal touches that make it a nice place to be. But lately the dust is thick enough to write out “clean me” with a finger, it’s nearly impossible to walk across the floor without picking up little dirty bits on the bottom of your bare feet, and I have some misplaced furniture that needs a couple of hefty men’s strength to move. But if I look at my home with squinty eyes, or peer only at the places that have managed to remain clutter free, I can exist in this wide open space and still maintain most of my sanity.



I often feel like a bad homemaker for not keeping up with the day-to-day duties that come with having a home. (And before you tell me, “It doesn’t look bad at all,” just know that I’m showing you the rated G photos here… the places I allow my eyes to rest when it all gets to be too much. You should see my office area or my bedroom… eep!) I know Phil likes a tidy place to come home to. And I like a tidy place to get work done while he’s gone. But golly, that sun is finally shining awfully bright outside, and sometimes I have to choose between staying cooped up inside with a dust rag and a broom or hopping on my bike and high-tailing it to the nearest coffee shop. Today I choose the latter.

