List of Gotta Do

I have a whole list of ‘gotta do’ going in my head.  It is a long list, and it is crowding out every thought circling around inside my skull.

My mess is not this bad!

Gotta:  Finish the baby quilts.  Almost done, these quilts are so precious.  I thought of my grandson with each piece and hoped that someday he would know how much he is loved on this side of the Atlantic.

My quilt mess is much worse than this!

Gotta:  Clean up my sewing mess.  Oh, my.  The mess of threads, scraps of trimmings, strips of batting, and folded up fabric pieces that will find their way into another quilt—they are scattered around my television room.  

...and my room isn't as bad as this one, either!

 Why not in the sewing room?  It is too small and has no table large enough to lay fabrics side by side to see how they balance each other.  So my TV room looks like an exploded quilt.

A quilt stash is a personal thing...

Gotta:  Dust.  Dust—it is layering up on every surface in this house.  Soon it will be thick enough to put into a quilt as its own batting.  I am allergic to dust.  Allergic to pollen.  Allergic to tiny fibers from fabric, those tiny fibers that float in the house after a season of cutting on cotton.

Dust, cat hair, pollen, just about anything...

Gotta:  Find a person (besides myself and my husband) willing to enter this den of dust and clean it out. 

I will pay good money for this.  And, I will make that person a lovely quilt.

Finding the Middle Ground

I tried to re-locate this source, failed.  Forgive me.

One can try to be organized, put things away, establish an orderly life, or one can utterly give up.  No, there is a middle ground, and I think I found it.  Today.

I have fluctuated between the two extremes forever. 

Either I will go into a red-faced cleaning frenzy where NOTHING is safe, and EVERYTHING is put into its proper place;

OR

I will toss it all somewhere and make a vague promise to put it away, someday.

My mother-in-law was coming over after church, and the living room had that messy-Saturday-and-exploded-Sunday-Paper look.  So my husband and I did the frenzied cleaning of that room, and extended areas.

 Man.  We were moving fast and I was tolerating no half-way job.

So it was…that I was putting things away in a bedroom closet when the toe of my sandal caught on the silly frou-frou bed skirt.   I stumbled, pulling that foot free of the dang lacy linen.  In doing that simple movement, I kicked the dang cheap metal, sharp edged bed frame.  I kicked it good. 

I broke the big toe.  Not badly, just enough to put ice on it and tape it to the next toe.  I will hobble around for a while.

Today I found that there is a meeting ground between obsessive cleaning and casual disregard.  I found it with my toe.

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