Yes, it is that time again. As things start to spill out into open spaces and I am spending more time in frustration at the chaos than I am enjoying the inhabitants of our space, a clear signal is shooting flare bright above my head.
A warning beacon glaring to whomever will glance over and up, that all is not right and something or someone is lost here. A pleading signal illuminating darkened corners of our space with the message that something wants to be found. Needs to be found.
So it begins in this Paulson household.
As we did six months ago, it is time to go through our home with surgical precision. Cutting all excess that threatens to be come a cancerous cell of ungrateful greed and gluttony.
Okay, that is a bit on the dramatic side… but as our living quarters have been greatly reduced, clutter is far more choking to our way of daily life than it used to be. And, it is time to, once again, sort and sell or donate anything we have not used or played with or thought of in the past six months, and reassign new homes for all the stuff that has accumulated in piles and trails and tripping traps.
It is time to free those cluttered corners! And relocate my sanity and peace of mind so that I can find that missing laughter.