Once Upon A Time...
There was a girl, who lived with a boy. They were neither of them terribly organized people but the girl saw to it that their home stayed relatively clean, as long as you ignored the dirty laundry on the bedroom floor from time to time.
But one day, she went to open the closet under the stairs (which she dubbed 'The Harry Potter Cupboard') to look for something and was quite surprised. She'd known that the closet was a cluttered mess, filled with remnants from their move a year ago, but this was astonishing.
The girl carefully tied her hair back and put on her headphones, choosing music that would motivate her while she undertook this massive task. The boy would not be home from work for some time still, and so began to empty the closet.
When everything was spread out upon the floor, the girl began to sort through it. It took two entire hours of un-boxing, careful examination, and re-boxing, but she finally had everything ready to go back in.
She was ashamed to say that seventy percent of the mess was woolen products and their accompanying equipment.
Fifteen minutes later, the girl had put all of the boxes and other things back into the Harry Potter Cupboard. And as she stood back and admired a job well done, she sneezed. But it was the sneeze of a well-cleaned and newly organized closet, and somewhere deep in the mystical brain that all storage places contain, the closet laughed.
It would not stay clean for long, it never did.
(That trash bag isn't trash, it's stuffed animals that I am too attached to to get rid of, but have no place to put them.)
And that was pretty much how I spent my day. I stripped the tree and took down the decorations, and boxed everything up for storage in the Harry Potter Cupboard. The apartment seems bare and empty now, but we will adjust to the space again quickly. The snowflakes on the windows are still up, since they are for winter, and so are the snowflake lights in the windows and around the kitchen. I will take them down closer to spring, when the threat of snow is slightly lessened. (We have gotten a foot of snow in April before.)
Patrick and I took my parents out to dinner at Red Lobster. They are always helping or feeding or buying us things, and we wanted to do something nice in return as a thank-you. Dinner was lovely and as usual, my mom and I tended to dominate the conversation.
It's a Wood Woman Thing, when we get together, we talk. A lot.
Colleen, Jim's sister, is coming down tomorrow for a sushi date with me, and I am looking forward to it. I hardly ever get to see her, and Coll is such a fun person. We have wild conversations about the strangest things. Also, where Colleen and I go, sushi happens.
My mother has signed me up for Susan Pandorf's In Dreams myster shawl KAL, and purchased my yarn to go with it. It was a gift, apparently. I won't complain, the yarn is a beautiful coppery color. Alpaca and silk.
I told Patrick he wasn't allowed to touch it. When I got it home, though, he felt up my yarn and then--be still my beating heart--he sniffed it. Yes, Patrick smells yarn, just like my mom and (apparently) many other knitters. He is already making eyes at it. The man might not be able to sit and knit for long, but he recognizes good fiber when he sees it.
But that doesn't mean I'll let him touch it again.
Tabibito-tachi ga utau,
mishiranu uta mo,
natsukashiku kikoete kuru yo
tada kimi to iru to.
Tabi no Tochuu ~Natsumi Kiyoura
The song that travelers sing,
Though I don't know it,
It sounds familiar to me
As long as I'm with you.