When I retired from my job, I became a virtual whirlwind of activity. I don’t know why I was in a hurry. After all, as Honey kept reminding me, ”You can do it tomorrow.”  I think in my many years of hurry and stress it became a habit and carried over to my home life. I didn’t know how to slow down.

I started in the kitchen by pulling everything out of the cabinets. Stuff surfaced that I thought I had thrown away years ago. “Oh my, gosh, I didn’t know I still had that deviled egg dish and that old food grinder from the dark ages.”  Well, I didn’t need them now, so I might as well get rid of them — except everything was too good to throw away, which is probably what I thought years ago when it was pushed to the back of the shelf never to see the light of day again.

Maybe I could have a garage sale. By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen and front hall closet, I had filled four large plastic bins with stuff. That was not to even mention the things that no one would buy, not even at a garage sale: rusty pans, decorative tins that popcorn came in on some holiday in the distant past, barbeque tools that have never been used.

If I didn’t use it and it didn’t have some great sentimental value to me, it was gone. I closed my eyes and put white elephants in the plastic garage sale bins. I did pretty well. I only took out one cute picture with the days of the week on it and returned it to the closet. One of these days, I’ll use it. I know I will.

I actually went through the medicine cabinets and threw away all the medicine that had expired. I can’t believe I’ve had some of it as long as I have.  But Honey’s stuff is impossible. I never know if he is saving empty bottles because he plans to get a refill or because he likes to save empty bottles.

He promised to help me get the house organized. So far, he had not thrown away as much as a sheet of paper. This was putting a monkey wrench into my plan. I really hate not being able to find things. If I want the scissors or a screwdriver, I want to be able to go get it without having to buy a new one because it is easier.

“What are you going to do when you get done cleaning, mom?” asked my son.

“I will clean the garage, and after that the attic.” How’s that for ambition? Actually, it was too hot. I would have to wait until fall when the weather is cooler and the attic is not an oven. I may be a tornado of cleanliness, but I was not crazy.

When it was the garage’s turn for a facelift, it spilled over to yard work. I had let the grass and weeks take over. I used to try to keep things neat, but I had done nothing that summer at all except have the grass mowed. It was easy to say, “I will do it when I retire.” Except now, I had retired, so what’s my excuse?  Three days were spent weed pulling, trimming, and spraying. It looked great… at least until it all grew back.

While I was busy organizing unseen places, I failed to keep up with the regular cleaning. The entire house needed a good cleaning:  windows, baseboards, ceiling fans. I might get to it next week as almost everything except the attic was done now.

I think I need to go back to work so I can get some rest.

Copyright 2014 Sheila Moss