doing, doing...DONE

Here's the truth: I am way better at reading, writing, and talking about organizing than I am about doing organizing.

But I'm changing my ways.

You heard me. I'm disassembling my avoidance disorder bit by bit by bit.

And in celebration of favorite season fall, first on the list is clutter.

The word itself invokes chaos: clutter=where to start?

In the past? Nowhere.

In the present? With purpose.

Here's how we're doing it:

• With a pad and a pen. We've observed every room (which isn't many in our townhouse) and asked this question: How do we want to use this room?

Here's how we answered:

Living/TV Room: Relaxing and Reading
Kitchen/Great Room: Creating
Bedroom: Dressing and Sleeping
Bathroom: Showering and Grooming

• In chunks. It's a work in progress, but we're listing the items that don't meet the purpose and doing one of three things:

a. eliminating them (trash, giveaway, charity)
b. moving them (e.g. books from bedroom to living room, arts & crafts from all over to kitchen/great room)
c. leaving them put

• In phases (I'm a big fan). Once the rooms are perfectly purposed, we'll do one more thing:

Revisit each room, and do one more "do we really need this" exercise. Mostly this goes for my books and magazines (I plan to do the article extraction thing--cut out keeper articles and notebook them). I already tackled the clothes (word of advice: it hurts but don't look back). I'm putting off the books. I really might need them someday. Right!?

I'm going to do this. If I do, I've told myself, I get to splurge a bit at Christmastime and make this home a cozy winter wonderland.

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Note: this is a grandparent/aunt/love Ava update

We took Ava for her flu shot this afternoon. Since I just had mine and still have the bruise and the swelling to prove it, I was really, really, really dreading it for her.

We spent some time with her doctor kit beforehand, giving her "baby" a shot and talking about how it would just pinch for a minute. While she wasn't exactly thrilled to be getting one, she didn't protest much (the extra goldfish at snack time might have helped).

Her daddy and I held her tight while the nurse prepared the shot. She squealed and worse-than- winced in the less-than-a-second it took, but that little darling didn't shed one tear. In fact, before the nurse had put the needle away, little Ava, in the sweetest little voice, looked at her and said, "Thank you."

Pitter Patter Pitter Patter.

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Splurge-potential

No splurge to report. I'm making an apple cake for a meeting on Friday. If all goes well, I'll pass the recipe along.