Puttering

I am still trying to get used to what my life is like without being a homeschooler.  I keep adding things and saying yes to good things and meanwhile all the projects that have been patiently waiting for me at home aren't getting done.

Low on the list was pulling out my boxes of autumn decorations.  It is less important than reorganizing the kitchen pantry, which is sometimes a life threatening proposition when you try to retrieve something, or boxing up some of Braeden's tchotchkes in his room that are just going to be collecting dust for the next two years.

It was low on the list, but I did it anyway.

Because I wanted to.

It didn't matter that Adam would be home soon and I didn't really have time to tackle the project before I needed to make dinner and we started on our evening plans.  I wanted to feather my nest a little.  I had been on the go all week and I wanted to do something that is good for my soul.

For me, that means arranging the mantle.

Emma was in her typical Friday afternoon comatose state (she burns the candle from both ends all week and then crashes) so Mark was my helper.  We hauled boxes up from the basement gathered all the summer stuff to put away.

Here's what I found inside a lantern on the mantle:

When Braeden didn't leave his socks on the floor, he'd stash them somewhere I couldn't see.

It's confusing to miss someone that makes you so crazy.

I pulled out the season's throw pillows and Mark...arranged them.

Mark and I got really serious and pulled out two ladders (because the first one wasn't tall enough) to tweak some of the things on the high shelf between our windows.  Mark is highly opinionated on the placement of every object so there was a lot of debate and reworking.

I bought some battery powered candles to perch on the shelf (complete with remote control because this is the sort of world we live in).  Mark was in charge of assembly and batteries because he knows where every battery is in the house and the status of its lifespan.

I took this from on top of the hearth where I spent most of the time.  I texted Adam the shot as in "fair warning, things are in disarray here."

Then I climbed up and down from the hearth thirty times to assess the placement of each item.  Emma woke up and lent her opinion.  I climbed back up and made adjustments.

And then I felt completely refreshed.

I'm telling you, nothing is quite as restorative as vase placement.

And nothing makes me happier than these pillows:

They used to be in my grandparents' house.  They even survived the fire and have the scars to prove it.