I did it. I hit the "delete blog" button.
Bye-bye career as an organization blogger. Done.
It's okay. Appearing that together and organized all the time was hard work. It was living a partial lie. Life happens around organization. Plus, of all the blogs I love . . . this one is my favorite. I like the truth.
So, without THAT blog running, I'll have to marry some of the Streamline and Simplify belief system with What the heck happened here? Which means, when blogger photo challenge concludes, I'll be recruiting Homestead to alternate picks with me again. She picks an area to clean up, de-clutter, make right. There's a week to get the job done. Then, I pick. It's a good time, and a lot gets accomplished.
There's a list a mile long around my place.
MOTH came home from work today and peered into the backyard. Mimi and Middle were playing with play-doh. Big and Little had a game of starwars something going. I was raking. Big, long, furious strokes to pull out dead grass. He chuckled and said, "what are you doing?" He doesn't understand the concept of "angry raking". I tried to explain that I'm tired of talking to people, tired of recruiting people into an organization that I'm losing faith in. I'm tired of talking to women. I'm tired of working my real job. My back hurts, my guts hurt, I have a zit inside my nose and I need a shower . . . . but the kids are out here playing, and there's stuff to do . . . so 'angry raking' seemed like a good use of my energy and time. I looked around at the brown, barren, spiny sticks poking up out of the ground. I looked at the nasty brown, bare earth where grass should be. I pondered the things I didn't get done last fall. Great Danes are damaging to landscaping. I'm not convinced there will be one blade of green grass in my backyard this spring. I'm not sure the sprinkler system is intact. I'm thinking some landscape fabric and rock gardens are in order. We need new mulch in the playground. There is so much to do outside, I could hardly take in the panoramic view before feeling like I needed to breathe into a paperbag and start making a list. Eee-gad. See . . . so much to do, so much to do, so much to do.