Clutter's Last Stand

       Thanks to Martha, and a little personal effort, things are going pretty well around here.  The kitchen is staying clean, the mail is sorted, the bed is made, spills are wiped up when they happen.  Even the dog has had a bath. 

       The paperwork, in particular, is clearly heading in the right direction.  I still have some work to do, but I am beginning to sense a zen state, ohm-ing in the distance.

       The last major element I must address again pertains to clutter -- but not the paper-blob type.  Instead, I'm referring to the simple kind of clutter -- the coat left unhung, the newspaper left spread on the table, the dirty sock that didn't quite make it to the laundry hamper.  Martha says whenever you leave a room, "take a quick look around for anything that isn't where it should be. Pick it up and put it where it belongs. Insist that everyone in the household do the same."

        Yeah, good luck with that.

        But I'm going to give it a try. The difficulty will be explaining this rule to Tom without sounding accusatory.

        The fact is that this sort of clutter is as much my fault as his. Indeed, we seem to feed off each other. When our home is extraordinarily clean, Tom is extraordinarly careful to keep it that way. But as soon as I leave my coat hung casually over a chair (only for a moment, because I'll be heading out soon, and will surely need it again), he leaves out not only a coat, but also a suit jacket and some stuff he emptied from his briefcase. And then I leave some unfolded laundry and a serving platter that I can't put away unless I stand on a chair. And then he leaves his sweatshirt, two magazines and nine business cards. You get the picture.

       So we're both going to have to work together on this, starting today.  I wish Martha had a more detailed plan on how to make it work -- something with slots and categories and such, like she provided for the mail sorting.  

       But I guess I'll just have to wing it.  I'll keep you posted...