I’M INTO MY FALL clean-up of my living room in my loft. It has been a while since I spent time on this endeavor.
My corner under the stairs I wouldn’t call a pigsty; it is more of an accumulation of clutter - remnants of things I worked on or used over the last few years. I didn’t have a place for them in my cupboards or shower and I don’t have a desk given the size of my loft.
I'm recalling a small granite plaque that my mother featured on top of her rather cluttered desk. I’m assuming either she or Dad purchased it which stated: A Cluttered Desk is a Sign of Genius. It made me smile whenever I saw it. The hinged top on her secretary-style desk hadn’t been closed in years. The desk was stuffed with papers and things that made closing the top nearly impossible.
There was some knitting and needles in one cubby hole that were purported to be the beginning of socks for my dad which she started on their honeymoon in 1943. They were never finished. I think she and Dad found more fun things to do than knit.
There was a further enigma to her messy desk - the rest of her house was spotless with everything in place. Go figure.
As they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I’m now wondering what happened to the engraved granite paperweight. Maybe it will show up after I get through all my clutter.
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