Clutter As Poetry

"Clutter is the poetry of our homes.  It is an intimate view that is not always perfect - a few dishes in the sink, books piled next to the bed.  Everything in its place may give a certain satisfaction, but a lived-in room exudes comfort and warmth."  Mary Randolph Carter, A Perfectly Kept House is the Sign of a Misspent Life


I saw this quote in a copy of Country Living Magazine I was reading in bed this morning while I drank my second cup of coffee.  I looked around my room at the clothes in the chair, the stacks of books and magazines and the film of dust on my dresser.  Sigh.  And this is just my side of the room.  I don't even want to talk about Lee's side.  I had been excusing the state of my cluttered house all summer by telling people that I hardly spend anytime inside so I don't notice the dust that needs dusting or the rug that needs vacuuming.  And Clutter?  Can we talk?  Lee and I are both accumulators.  I rarely get rid of a book or something that might be useful in a craft project, Lee rarely throws out a catalog and we both love the little tsatskes we've gathered up over the years.  Don't worry, we're not hoarders but when you walk into our house you know right a way that we love nature, we have a dog, we read and we are very comfortable in our home.


Thinking about the state of my home as poetry has made me ridiculously happy today.  I actually enjoyed looking at the stack of canning jars in the kitchen waiting for ingredients and the recycling bin that needs to be emptied just makes me appreciate the door that hides it from sight.  I looked at Lee's desk with a new appreciation for the expression of, hmm, something that allows him to work away happily amidst stacks of catalogs, packing materials and flyers.  Poetry - I like it.

This afternoon I'm going to do some laundry and clean up the kitchen.  I'm not going to worry about the little things that won't get done - like cleaning the top of the fridge or dusting the chicken figurine collection - and I'm going to feel great about the stacks of clean clothes on the bed and my fresh kitchen ready for my next cooking foray.  But you know, if something comes up that I would rather do or that I need to do, it's not going to bother me if I don't get either the clothes washed or the kitchen cleaned up.  In fact, is that Pearl wanting to go outside?  Yes it is and, look, it's ten above zero and it's a sunny day and it will only be light for a short time - I better take Pearl for a walk.  Poetry.

Happy Weekend,
Vicki