Lately, I’ve heard sounds of occupation in my home. Occupation by some one or something other than myself. At first, I could dismiss it as some normal sound, but then it got so loud and so obvious that I only was left to determine which rodent type it could be. No type would be acceptable. A rat would be more creepy. Whatever it was ignored my tasty mouse traps but it had to go!
Being an extremist of sorts, I tend to be ultra organized or pathetically messy depending on which ever suits my objectives. When I have projects aplenty but am short on time to complete them all, I begin to allow some of the upkeep to fall behind. It always starts with papers. Mail and magazines and receipts worth saving, and notes – anything on paper that I may want to keep around – will begin the process by acting as a magnet. They’re like that sticky bit of honey or jam that fell from the bread but didn’t get wiped up. Dirt goes straight to it and revels in it’s new digs. Some kinds of creativity thrive best in an organized environment so ‘messy’ can be a problem.
Paper adds up fast. To compliment the affect, the floor begins to get neglected. Then the dishes pile up. Then laundry.
Next, I’m rebuilding the dash of an antique automobile on the table, or creating some interesting thing on the counter. Time comes in measurable quantities, and if the chores do not get done then the time to get them caught up is proportionately less and less of a match for the size of the mess.
Then it gets ugly. Attempts to make isolated areas pristine again are satisfying, but not sufficient to turn the tide. It just gets worse.
On the plus side, visitors spend as little time as possible on the premises and prefer to avoid it altogether, especially when they are not up on their shots. Little dogs and visiting cats love it. There are many places to hide and explore. This is particularly vexing if any of them find the laundry room where the dryer is capped with clean clothes like a cone with an extra scoop. Atop that, find a cat looking as cute and cozy as any fur shedding nuisance could look. While being removed, they complain as if they are the one being inconvenienced.
Remembering the biblical account of the creation, I saw my bedroom as “matter, unorganized” and set about fixing it. Since the mess began with paper, the cleanup did also. My recycling bin is now filled with old reciepts, schoolwork, ads, magazines, and other paper junk. The garbage can is filled with stuff not worth saving, all from that one cleanup.
I knew the mouse was waiting me out somewhere and expected him to make a run for it. Step by step I organized the room. That meant washing all the clothing that could have been befouled by the little beast. Now, I have eleven perfectly serviceable denim pants, some are even brand new. By the end of the year, I hope to fit inside them. That’s not possible now. My size is, as the Mens Wear House online choices say, “portly”. It’s awful. I also have numerous new shirts waiting for me to conform to their dimensions.
Toward three in the morning, I’d done as much as I cared to do. I knew where the little bugger was hunkered down and wasn’t sure how I would lure him out. He ignored my trap with it’s tasty cheese lure. Then I discovered a cat in the house and grabbed him.
“You’ve got a job to do,” I told him. I set him on the floor and then poked at the hiding place and out came the mouse. The cat transformed into a capture machine and followed me with the rodent in his mouth to the front door where I sent them both outside to play.
Today, I paint.
