Housekeeping Ain't No Joke

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but sometimes things happen in threes and you just need to follow the thread... My cleaning lady came today. Every other week she comes and does all the chores I hate--well, really I only hate cleaning the bathroom, the rest can be extremely satisfying--but I work hard at the office all day and I allow myself this indulgence. Of course, I always spend the night before R. comes cleaning so that she can clean, straightening up the mess. I run around collecting newspapers and magazines and catalogs to throw into the recycling bin, I put clothes away or in the laundry basket, and I clean up the kitchen. I am not naturally neat and I have a lot of stuff. I have fantasies of being orderly and organized, but I'm too lazy to keep it going. Coming home from work after R. has been here is one of the highlights of my week. How fast will I mess it up again, though?

Looking for a inspiration to write, I scanned my collection of Domino magazine issues, neatly stacked (and recently dusted!) in my bedroom bookshelves. Domino always had a quote printed on the spine, and tonight one jumped out at me--the title above, from Louisa May Alcott. The issue's themes were de-cluttering and organizing to "express your personal style." I so miss Domino. It was such a smart, fresh stylish magazine. I think if it had been able to hang on another 6 months or a year more it might have been able to morph into one of the new online magazines that keep popping up. I'm going to try to mention these new publications in future postings, and just today I got an email alerting me to a new issue of one of my favorites, Covet Garden. I love how each issue focuses on only one home and its inhabitants, and all their collections and quirks and, well, stuff. Talk about personal style!

Which brings me to number three. I have a box of magazine tearsheets, and still without a theme for tonight, I started sifting through them and found an editor's letter from the also sadly defunct House and Garden. Dominique Browning often wrote heartfelt, smart essays for H&G--the one I'd saved had a particular resonance with me. It was titled "Loving the Mess." I hope you can read the attached scan of her letter, but I particularly loved the closing lines:

We all worry about what our houses say about us. I can tell you one thing. If you are too organized, your house will say nothing about you. And that's the worst possible message.

Learning Happy

Recently I read that a person can choose to be happy, that happiness can be simply a matter of waking up and deciding your mood the way you might choose what clothes to wear. I am envious of those who can control their psyches in such a way. I wonder if being happy is a habit that one can form by practicing it often, but I fear that I do not have the discipline. Does choosing to be happy mean to ignore, or perhaps to banish, the self-criticisms you (I) pepper yourself with all day long? Is happiness an appreciation of gifts both large and small? I think that it is all these things, and I hope that it is something I can learn.

Today I was reminded of how irritating it is to our friends when we forget to appreciate all those gifts. So in the spirit of acknowledging those gifts--and learning happy--I'm going to list a few here.

• I have a close-knit family that (usually) gets along and enjoys each others company. My parents and my siblings are my friends.

• I have a good job. With nearly 10% of Americans out of work, and the economy still struggling, I am fortunate to work for a good firm, I enjoy my colleagues, and the work I do contributes to the betterment of local communities.

• I have wonderful friends--more friends than I could ever imagine one could need. But need them I do.

• I have a nice home, in a nice building, with nice neighbors. Although it has taken a few years to put together, the design of the interior is finally coming together cohesively, and I'm beginning to feel that I come home to Home.

• I have a sweet, big brown dog to keep me company when I am happy, sad, tired, lonely, or ready for an adventure.

I'm going to work on learning happy--after all, I think you can teach an old dog new tricks.