4
Dec

my name is

I need the D.I. truck to pay me a visit!

I remember when my mother sold her house in Evanston and she was in the process of moving to Ogden, someone requested the D.I. truck to come and load everything up. At least that’s how I remember the story. Someone correct me if I’m wrong. I remember, at the time, thinking I’d never heard of such a thing!

Well, if such a service is available, I could use it. Now. Right now. Yesterday, in fact. Because, I have — officially and seriously — run out of storage space! I’ve got old Levis up the wazoo. [Going to make thirty Levi quilts someday!] I’ve got crafts coming out of my ears. I’ve got food storage and fabric and frames and mats and paint and ribbon and lotion-making supplies, lip gloss, candle making . . . you name it. I’ve got it. I’ve always thought it was important, and necessary to have everything stored so that if, for instance, I needed a gift for a sweet-sixteen party I could immediately go to the craft area and pick out the supplies and !wal-lah! make an adorable little thingamajig worthy of admiration, oohs, and awws. And, lots of exclamations, “Oh, my gosh! You made this? You just whipped it up? What? You had everything you needed to make it right at home?”

Didn’t happen. Never happened.

So, I am in the middle of taking down all my Fall crafts. [Yes, I’m two weeks late on that!] And, I ran up to the school to get three or four paper towel boxes [4 a.m. I’m doing this . . .] and I filled them all, wrote ‘fall crafts’ on the outside and went to stack them in the basement. Not a square inch! Not one place I could put them! I started going through things and found, oh, my gosh, tons of boxes from the 80’s and 90’s. Old, old projects. Wooded shelves and bear/moose/pine tree garland I made twenty years ago. A case of soy candle wax. Clothes I wore a century ago, and at least 100 pair of denim pants. I’ve got at least 25 totes of crafts, finished or unfinished and in various stages of recognition. I’ve got every possible camping apparatus you’d find in a small Coleman Store.

Enough!

I’ve got to regain some small semblance of control and order in my life and it’s not going to happen this way!

Calling D.I. right now. Oh. Stop. Wait. It’s 5 a.m. on Sunday morning.

Reality Check. OK. I’m taking a long, hot bath and putting up my Christmas/Winter crafts and heading to Church. I’m going to get grounded and centered. I’m going to feel the Peace of the Season. I’m going to repent and take the sacrament and invite the Spirit to dwell with me. I’m going to feel His influence and Enjoy every moment of this Special Holiday.

Then, come Spring, I’m going to have a humongus garage sale. Or call the D.I. truck.

Or, build on.

That’s what I could really use. More storage space! Because I really, really need all this stuff.

s.i.g.h. . .

Um, my name is Dorothy Pitts and I’m a hoarder.

2 thoughts on “my name is

Comments are closed.