Yesterday I was dangerously close to the edge. Friends keep asking what they can do to help, and I’m so overwhelmed most of the time that I just stand and stare, like a deer in the middle of the night watching the oncoming mesmerizing lights that are about to knock it to kingdom-come. Then, two things happened. First, Abby picked these flowers in the yard and arranged them herself. Second, two friends showed up, and instead of asking me what to do, they just rolled up their sleeves and told me to get out of the road. After a few hours, this was the result:
Yes, that is my downstairs family room, once home to the amazing blue leather sectional Bean dissected long ago. It’s now empty. Not just empty, but spectacularly, beautifully empty. The results are thus:
One small corner (in the also cleaned out and nearly empty guest room) of things coming with me to DC, and…
One large pile of things for the yard sale. Which, by the way, my friends unilaterally moved to next weekend and told me to just quit stressing.
My craft room has been also thusly dispatched. An entire room of fabric, supplies, paper, and goodies has been distilled to four boxes. Exhibit A, containing only my favorite things: