Sunday 20 February 2011

clutters last stand


 Apparently, there is a law like Mr Murphy's that says clutter will always increase to fill the available space.  I can vouch for the truth of this.  Since my daughter and son-in-law moved in a year ago with their three children while they build their new home, we have been fighting an ongoing battle against the clutter monster.  Even after 2 skip bins, 3 or 4 large trailer trips to the tip and a verge pick up we still don't seem to have any less clutter than when we started.

It is also true that as one untidy child leaves the nest, the next in line who may have been previously tidy, not wanting to be outdone by their departing sibling, feels it necessary to fill the vacant position as mess maker extraordinaire.  
Yikes!!

I tried to police the No Dumping rule when my four children were younger.  At one stage I had a box in the doorway of the living room and threw all foreign objects into it.  The idea was that the little litterers would retrieve their belongings and put them away.  Our oldest daughter just found it very convenient to have all the things she needed in one spot and used the box as a closet.  

So I was sitting on the patio the other day trying to rustle up the energy to clean up the clutter in the spare bedroom (full of boxes and debris accumulated from the extra large number in our household) but, knowing first hand that the clutter law is alive and well and operating at my house, I was hesitant to start.

Sometimes cleaning up is forced on us in a moment of panic.  I responded to a distressed scream from daughter number two recently, when she saw what she thought was a mouse run under her bed.  Before I realised what was happening I had sorted through all the clothes and various boxes around and under her bed, restacking them and vacuuming as I went, while princess stood on top of the bed watching.  It dawned on me that I could have been sucked in.  She assured me she had seen something, so I carried on.  Finally at the end, with a lovely clean room and no mouse, the object of terror was found.  A tiny little gekko, no doubt trying to escape from the screaming, was hiding under her lamp stand.

So back to the patio. The spare room wasn't really that urgent, just annoying me, and besides I was still tired from the phantom mouse incident and, having gleaned some wisdom with age, I knew that on previous bouts of house pride, it could be a waste of time. You know exactly what I mean, you start to clean the hall stand near the front door, a small patch of long lost shelf starts to appear and your enthusiasm swells.  Now you are attacking it with gusto, and almost start to enjoy yourself.  But, alas! no sooner have you given those shelves one last flourish of your polishing cloth and lovingly placed a scented candle in the centre and gone to get the dinner started, than one of your little darlings comes in and dumps their school bag on it.
I'm Cheating - this is where we stayed in Paris
                                               

So, I have a choice, go and attack the spare room knowing that I am fighting a losing battle with the clutter, or sit on the patio enjoying the birds flitting in and out of the ivy, drink another coffee and read my book. The birds are looking more and more fascinating...  







1 comment:

  1. Yay to figuring out how to add another blog post. I love the new look also.
    You are right, clutter does seem to just multiply! I second the patio, birds and another coffee. The mess will still be there tomorrow. xx

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