Actually, it feels like I’ve been walking around in my own ruin at home since forever, but especially since Italy and my cold. Piles of clothes and such everywhere. That after work you just throw your clothes on an armchair and the mountains are built. All the mountains, zinc mountains, wash mountains and everything is just overwhelming. Never time to catch up. I tend to go along a bit more often and tidy up and clean that way, try, but that feeling hasn’t arrived. Just a lack of energy.
But then a few days ago I had time to clean. I spent about 7-8 hours doing a total clean, not just the surface, but also cleaning closets and sorting out clothes. Folded and vacuumed, mopped. Stay informed everywhere.
And it reverberated when Eric opened the front door, like we’d been robbed because there was so little fluff and stuff. And now we have managed to keep this up for a few days. Things are picked up immediately instead of landing. And it is beautiful. I was a little embarrassed that the light on the street side was on so that the neighbors could see the chaos. Now instead it’s Josef Frank’s melody about five light sources in each room getting warm, all the nice little lights and big lights on.
Part of you becomes more difficult about this, wanting to take it away immediately. But I’m against it. The toys are sorted, so we can choose duplicates with a box or a play shop/kitchen with other items. Order. And it’s important to let yourself relax. You can’t deal with it if you can’t deal with it. But now I enjoy that it is nice.
Makes the bed every morning and thinks about Bodil.
I probably haven’t even written much here about the importance Bodil had for me. Bodil Malmsten. I purposely don’t finish her books because there won’t be any more. She can write about birthmarks or her car and that’s more brilliant than anything. She is my domestic goddess and now for the first time in a long time I am living up to her words that I previously wrote on the refrigerator. And have them in the ceramics studio. No back pages, of The price of water in Finistère.
She saved me and I even put a lady on her grave, I wonder if she is still standing.
So nice to have caught up now, and that it is not a marathon times fifteen to get back there every evening.
Thanks Bodil. I heard you again and pulled myself together.
#pages #October