Julian came down to my office not to long ago and looked around. He looked at me, put his hand on my shoulder and said "Mom, you are a messy girl. You need to clean up this mess."
Pot. Meet Kettle.
But he did have a point.
Not that I conceded.
Yes, my workspace looks like a creative volcano, a craft store eruption and a home school curric fair gown badly wrong. Combined.
Does anyone else do this...or am I the lone nut on this tree? I have a counter that is 12 feet long, an 8 foot table behind me and plenty of floor space, and yet, for some as-yet-unexplained reason, I find myself working in a space squarely in front of my computer that's actually smaller than the page I'm working on. Can someone tell me why this happens? It's less than the length of my keyboard! My stuff crowds me out of my space. When did this habit develop and how an I going to break it?
I sometimes get a hair bit green with envy of people who work clean. I just can't do it. A clean space makes me insecure and if stuff is put up and organized, I can't find a darn thing.
In other news,
a) I read the sweetest blog entry today at http://seekingfaithfulness.wordpress.com/2007/03/06/scrapbooking-recording-faithfulness/
b) Did you know that April is National Poetry Month? Yep. Sure is. How perfect is that? So tell me, what's your favorite poem? Did you have to memorize any poems in school? Did they stick?
In the eleventh grade for English I had to memorize the first 20 lines or so of the introduction to the Canterbury Tales. It was agony. It made no sense and had no value to me. A fan of old G Chaucer I am not. It was that "old English" pronunciation that made me hate it. Really. How does knowing twenty lines of old, out-of-date English help me be a good citizen or a better person? I still loathe that day. But, for the most part, I can still wander my way thru a recitation of this passage of literature. Why? I have no idea. But it's there.
My favorite poem is a a simple Wordsworth poem--in plain English--Daffodils. I don't have it memorized...but I do have it printed. And I enjoy it far more than the Intro of Canterbury Tales. Ever.
c) It occurred to me today that when we no longer have any children to haul around on a regular basis, I want to drive a Jeep. Not a sissy SUV like I drive now. A real Jeep. A Jeep with zip-up windows and a roll-bar. I wanna be that girl.
A few days ago, the boys and I were out doing some errands when I spotted an antique fire truck in the parking lot near our PO. It had a "FOR SALE" sign in the window. As you might have guessed, we had to stop and check it out--and yes, It was awesome.
We must have spent a half hour looking it over, from horn to taillight. I had to ride them pretty hard to keep them from climbing all over it. I came home and googled Pioneer TN (a tiny little town in Campbell County) and did some reading about the little town. She's a beautiful little fire engine...rusted out in places but still shiney in others. Until I had Julian I never knew how much I could love a fire engine. :)