Why does it matter that my life is ordered? All week I have been clearing the decks at home; emptying cupboards and clearing drawers. There have been a few prompts for this activity. Firstly: making it count. I am not at work at the moment, but will be going back at some point. I figure I should to make the most of my free days and get my life well and truly sorted. Secondly there is a sartorial prompt. I have trawled through my wardrobe and I have ditched anything that I have not worn for a year. This cull has been rather satisfying. All of the 'what if's' and 'maybe...one day's' have been discarded and I have sunk to the depths of the oldest hoards of clothes and have said 'goodbye'. On the advice of my lovely sister in law, I make an exception for dresses; which I keep for Boo in the hope that one day she will want to sport the vintage look. When and if she does; there will be dresses.
The final reason for the semblance of an ordered house is the visit of my friend Simone, whom I am collecting from the train station tomorrow morning!! Whaaaaaat??? A never-before-clapped-eyes-on blog friend! Beyond excited.
...vintage Vogue
The result of this life laundry is contentment. There, I said it. I am one of those people. I like the order - no, more than that; I need the order. It makes for a simpler day. Things are where they should be. I am replete. They say life is about the simplest things, and for me this is one such thing. If I could bottle this feeling of order and save it for a later date, I so would.
