I'm not an organized person.
Oh sure, when I occupy a territory that is not my own I am. When I worked outside the home I completely overcompensated for the lack of organizational skills in my personal life. I'm sure I duped quite a few people. It hit me Saturday that, while sewing a repurposed pillow case, that I was working in a mess. Baskets atop baskets, bits of fabric and string everywhere, sewing tools in 4 different locations, there was even an unpainted bird house found in the mix. Seth declared the mess is because because I don't have any room to "spread out", but I knew better. Sitting in my sunporch and running back and forth between that room and the guest room, unable to find my stitch ripper, I completely crumbled. This would not do. Organization was a must. What an awful way to spend a summer Saturday, cleaning and organizing. This wasn't a calm, collected sort of cleaning, this was a mad frenzy that began with the purging of useless items. "What do we need this for?!?" was my battle cry. Seth walked in to find me, with twitching eye, stuffing my Abbey Road poster into a garbage bag (an act I now regret. I'm so sorry for wrinkling you up, George). That's when the intervention took place. Seth, despite all stereotypes that indicate men are sloven pigs, is surprisingly organized (you should see his tool box at work. Everything laid out in a row like he's a surgeon or something). He retrieved the Fab Four and informed me that having a poster that was not hung on the wall did not add to clutter at all, it just needed to go where it belonged. I calmed down and the two of us worked together, me explaining what tools I use most often, and Seth giving helpful suggestions along the way. The happiest sight of all was when I hung up my completed projects in the closet. The straps especially, because their d-rings would gently clang against each other reminiscent of a wind chime. I can't wait to add more!
Not wanting to waste the beautiful weather, Seth, JET, Anna (our Sheltie) and I ventured out for a walk. We got around the corner and there, by the curb, was a discarded desk. The perfect sewing desk. Flat top, three drawers on the left side: perfect for a mostly left handed one like myself. Seth sped up towards it and I was immensely grateful for a husband who is unafraid to take peoples discarded furniture. The family was sitting in the driveway after an unsuccessful garage sale. Seth double checked that the desk was free for the taking and declined an unassembled Christmas tree they tried to press on us. He then threw the desk up onto his shoulder and carried it home. My hero! :)
The desk isn't in terrible condition. It's solid, made of real wood, not that particle board corruption. It has some stickers on the bottom drawer, and some marker etching declaring it the property of "Katie", if I recall. We left it in the garage and I have big plans to sand it down, repaint it (orange? green? other?) and give it fun new handles. We did the same thing for my dresser on one birthday and years later I'm still obsessed with it.
On a different note, I'm considering not creating anymore crocheted yoga bags. Random, I know. I just was looking at how many views were on each of my items on Etsy (obsessive? Quite.) and noticed that people looked at my fabric bags 4 times as often as the crocheted ones. That means that the project I started on the way back from Ben & Elisha's wedding (which was BeAuTiFuL, by the way) will be unravelled, unless someone declares otherwise. It's my own design, again, a bit different from the others. Here's a picture...
It's quite a bid wider than my other crochet bags. I thought that would appeal to some. I've been told to finish it and put it up on Etsy anyway buuuut... what do YOU think?