Thursday, June 27, 2013

Clear-cutting The House

Photo courtesy Flickr

When I moved from six hundred square feet of starter cottage into four stories of small 1890 footprint, I realized that when I left a room, I would have to leave it for real. Unfinished business in a given space generated so much altitude gained and lost over the course of a day that I couldn’t manage at all.

Shortly before we took on this place, my grandmother’s retirement home had advised her to carry a purse around the building so she wouldn’t have to go back to her room when she needed something. My ever-present side bag is the high-tech version. With daily necessities at hand, it’s a small matter to close out one room when it’s time to do something else in another. Laundry moves closer to the washing machine, coffee cup closer to the sink, textiles are folded, books reshelved, the whole litany recited. It’s a bother to turn my head to inspect a space before exiting, but the overall velocity of life increases noticeably if I do.

In a good year, I spend less than half an hour looking for things that have been misplaced.


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