It’s been happening again–that slow but steady creep of entropy. It starts with the little things. A mail order catalog that’s left on a counter, instead of ending up in recycling. A stuffed animal that worked its way out of a bedroom and onto the couch. That sweatshirt that no one has worn for a couple of days, draped over the back of the couch.

No, I am not Type A when it comes to housekeeping. It isn’t the “lived in” look that gets to me–it’s the fact that after a period of time, I just stop seeing the mess. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Or more importantly: that doesn’t mean it isn’t having an impact on how I’m living in the space I call my home.

So today was a day for a clean sweep. I literally started in one corner and moved my way out, tossing papers, hanging coats, folding clothes, etc.

It didn’t take too long, really, but the effect was immediate. Suddenly, our living space seemed less haphazard.

Of course, it’s an ongoing process. By the time the kids were in bed, I could already find signs of undoing. But that’s OK too, I suppose. It was worth the effort, and worth the ongoing effort.