On the Other Hand

After all the hard work of last week it was hard to coast to a close, so I cleared and sorted the sideboard drawers wondering once again how could I have too few tablecloths and so many napkins - about four dozen? Ah, sweet mystery.

Then my ever-chaotic bedside drawer. Very pleased to find my fountain pen, five nail files and the usual plethora of pens which I weeded down (I wish there were a place to donate them!). At which point it was time to confront the wardrobe, or as they say over here, walk-in closet, though I haven't been able to walk into it for a while as my tool chests are on the floor.

Big plastic bag: ill-chosen shoes went first, then the pile of out-of-favour garments I had been stock-piling on the top shelf.

I managed to clear two shelves completely to store my now colour-sorted fabrics in good order, squeezing my clothes back another rung in scale of importance. I would be quite happy with a uniform! Especially an Armani uniform...

I did realise something else this morning as I sat up in bed in great satisfaction with coffee, my pashmina and one of Louise's nighties. I am two people. One side of me wants the very best, and the other side slashes away in paint-stained clothes and sentimental knickers you wouldn't give a bag lady, and not just for utility. I like being mucky. I always want to have the option. Call it respect for the process, it certainly makes organising my clothes complicated. Maybe I need two wardrobes etc, like dishwashers in a Kosher household.