Order

I love a good clean, organized, quiet home. I wish I lived in one.

My family has officially outgrown this lovely home of ours. Sure, we'd have plenty of space if not for all the stuff that comes with us. But I'm not about to start pitching things as my DH suggested. I have determined that I have a somewhat extreme attachment to "things" for my memories. I'll often see, touch, smell, or hear something and an intense emotion or memory is triggered. It's who I am, and I'm not giving it up.

Because of a nasty flood we experienced last spring which severed us from a good portion of our stuff, I'm a little hesitant to put things under the house in the crawl space again. The things left are my only links to my past and the memories of my mother and my youth. Therefore, it's lingering upstairs with us with no real place. I suppose that would be okay too if we could find what we need when we need it! Frustrating for sure.

Well, apparently I'm not the only one who is bothered by the mess. My DH mentioned this sad story to his mother a few weeks ago. She, being very organized and structured, got right on that. She's coming up tomorrow to "help" us out. Why is this a problem? It shouldn't be really. A few things though. I think my pride is a little shaken. "It's my home. What's wrong with it?" She even said she thought we'd never ask. Which makes me feel a little pathetic. Plus redecorating is expensive! And there is the problem that I don't really know what style I want (well actually I do, but can't afford that.) So I'm a little nervous about where this is all leading. Maybe good. Who knows. Deep breaths, Jean. Deep breaths.

Anyway, I guess I could use a little less chaos in my life so I'll put on my courage face and plunge in. Scary. I don't know why, but it is.