Did the blog title fool you? Told you I wasn't discussing politics.
But what happened yesterday sent me to clean out my cabinet. Still not being political. My kitchen cabinet. In all the years we've lived here, I've never removed everything from this lower cabinet and cleaned the cabinet floor. Until yesterday. Then I did some reorganization.
All those baking pans -- square, round, bundt, cheesecake, large and small muffin / cupcake. Three pie plates, several cooling racks, two cutting boards and several serving trays. Now, I know what I've got, realize what I never use (but there's still possibility), and it's all in order. I stood back and surveyed the scene yesterday and declared it, "a work of art."
I love to organize. If I were a dog, I'd be a border collie. You'd think after all these months of extra home time, everything would be in perfect order, cleaned out, scrubbed tight. But no. Case in point, this cabinet (which has now come to order).
Organizing soothes me. It gives me control over something in life, even when other things are beyond my reach or impact. But the cabinet? It can suit me to a T.
Betty Giboney, who would be 108 this year, and who passed at 100, spent 40 (maybe more) years at The Courier-Times, retiring at 78. This, after a career as a professional dancer in New York City (she was a Roxyette--the name later changed to Rockette. She toured the country and appeared in movie dance lines. Then she worked at a NYC magazine.
After that, amazingly enough, she spent her career in rural Indiana covering 4-H and features, obits and whatever else needed doing. She famously (and seriously) told me that "New York City paled by comparison."
She was needed. She was treasured. She did good work. If you've got all that, plus a husband she adored and who adored her back, well, case closed. Who needs The Big Apple?
Betty and her husband traveled the globe. She once told me that much as she loved travel, she wished on occasion that they could have a staycation so she could do things like clean out the closets, which she never had time for. It was something she looked forward to in retirement (along with more travels including to Russia).
For many of us, there's something in our nature that craves putting things in order. Our affairs. Our closets. Our cabinets. Our souls.
I'm two weeks into retirement and I have plenty to do. This is my view at 8 a.m. today when I normally would be pulling into work. Do I miss hustling out the door? No.
Coming to you live from my favorite morning space, my writing chair. There's my second cup of coffee, daily planner, a couple of notebooks relating to specific projects.
This time of year, there are spectacular sunrises between 7:30-8 a.m. heading east.
But I like the ones from my writing chair.
Here I can quietly study, write, plan, and organize my day and upcoming projects.
How about you? Are you an organizer? Do you find it boring or comforting?