I close my door behind me and see the mess I've created in front of me . . . how do I *live* in this mucksty?? I have so much to do and so little motivation. I almost don't like coming home on the weekends because I have so much to do here, so many things to work on and to worry and to mend. And I have so much Stuff.

Collected and dusty things remind me of other times. I need to simplify, get rid of this stuff. It isn't like I use most of my things. Not nowadays, anyway. I have boxes to go to thrift stores, but also boxes of things I want to keep for my children (I don't want them NOW of course, but it's still frustrating to have all this stuff). And little knickknacks of sentimental junk. Books I don't need. Boxes of records and papers that I use only occasionally. Remnants of old hobbies! I have candlemaking supplies, stained-glass-painting tools, herbal medicine jars and bottles, calligraphy pens! Rubber stamps and paintboxes, a table loom, and a box of sewing supplies (wherein lies all the materials for a hideous quilt). Got to do something with it all or I will suffocate in the dust! Got to chuck it all away, I don't use most of it anyway. Besides, whatever will I do with it when I scoot off to wherever it is I'm going next? I thought I pared down coming *here* but not enough for my little brain.

Now I'm feeling all grody.

And in approximately a half an hour (deaf/italian/myfamily time) I will be helping to entertain a group of my mother's friends. Let's try and fit me into an SJ box for a little while for some socialising! It isn't really horrible, I'm just being cruel. But I do feel a bit neurotic about the whole thing. At least it is tea and caffe. I mean, that's prolly how it began is that people were getting together to meet eachother but they all had to have some kind of stimulant to make them less nervous . . . *mumbles and snorts*

I love naps in front of fireplaces--that's what I did most of yesterday. But let me back up a little *beepbeepbeep*. We all went to a movie with some friends (this is always fun and the movie really was good; I want to see it again) and I'm so glad I was sitting down the entire time cause I kept shaking . . . I hate being ill! It is "all very vexing, you know." And then after the movie things were sort of hazy and everything was funny inside my head until we went home, where I was mothered with a big ol' mug of tea and a wool blanket and a big red creaky rocking chair by a roaring fire. Drifting in and out of sleep with my feet warmed by a friendly choir of flames is just what I needed . . . lucky socks and raggy sweater notwithstanding! And I read favourite bits of favourite books . . . these things make one well.

*mumbles about more tea and pruny fingers and socialising before grumbling into a nicer shirt and brushing her hair*

and now, dear readers, I must be off. Affectionate embracefuls to you all, with hopes for your afternoons to be think-ful.