Ladies & Gentlemen, Start Your Engines (of Judgment)

"A promise made is a debt unpaid."

This post gets me out of debt, I think.

I promised I would show it like it is--my home's clutter.

Then I gulped. Quivered. Thought I felt hives jumping out all over my skin. Am I nuts?

I've gone back and forth, back and forth, daring one minute to expose the embarrassing things I could just as well hide, posting only on days I had just tidied up, or posting just the pictures around the home after I'd cropped, edited, or staged to portray my best Martha Stewart to blogland. The other choice: put it out there on a day I've done "diddly squat" about it and see if maybe the "real deal" puts other "real people" at ease.

Shall we start the tour? This is just Level One of my home. The other Levels will just have to keep for another day. Pass the Benadryl.

It does not always look like this. (Sometimes it looks worse.) Usually it looks better, but today I'm going for the intense gasp. It will be a gasp to rival the "shot heard round the world."


Got your seatbelt buckled? Gas mask on? Hair net in place? Okay, then, here we go.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll turn your attention to the first photo. This is Grand Central. The motherlode of landings for mail, receipts, coins, jewelry, notices, coupons, pens, etc. A whole lot of "etc." It's the area I'm conquering this week, thanks to the impetus of Project Simplify.

By the way, that's not liquor on the fridge. It's iced-tea syrup. (I keep the liquor in my purse.)

We keep the doors closed for a reason.


















reason being... Our miscellany cabinet would flaunt its abundance. Of phone chargers. Seriously, we have more cords than Octomom's uterus. This cabinet is a microcosm of Wal-mart, what with its lightbulbs so handily close to the pet meds, and the Chick Fil-A sauces within walking distance of the bill from my urogynecologist (otherwise known as a Zo-ologist).















We have a square foot of fridge-front property
for sale. Perked and everything.


















The dining room server, a.k.a. the Lego
Aircraft Carrier Landing. Notice also the
liquor there. (Time to buy a bigger purse.)
A vase, a serving tray, an octagonal bowl (what do
I have with Octogons today?) and a coin collection.
Nice tablescape, don'tcha think? The eclectic look,
some call it.















The posture of these books really mirrors the way I feel
most days.



















Where does your eye go first? To the Renoir
on the wall? Thought so. Even the lady in the
painting is trying not to look at the mess.


















Peek-a-blue.













I see you! Great hiding place, ya'll! The go-to
place for broken lamps and other sundries.














An aerial view of the top drawer of my desk.


















An overexposed image of an underexposed drawer.
The only impressive thing about it is Joel's drawing of a "Sattle Horse." :)














I bought this organ at an auction (around 1993)
to display vintage photos...and postage stamps ?
It has remarkable expansion capability...


















as well it should--to file Blooming Florals and Dr. Seuss drawings.
Isn't that what every good Victorian lady used her
organ for? My hubby says it's time for an organ donation.













And it's time I get off the computer and do more
about this magnificent montage of miscellany.

Tune in tomorrow when the Et Cetera counter and
the cabinet of a messy mini-mart have been transformed
seemingly by magic.

You may now remove your mask and enjoy the effects of that
Benadryl capsule.