common disasters, uncommon order

'I feel like I've been fighting a war with the house since we moved in. Is that we have too much stuff? Or is it...' My friend R trails off and I turn her words over in my mind. I know this feeling well.  It's a common conundrum of family life, the overwhelm.

The lament in my work Venn diagram of works: the heritage, the organising, the rehoming. We do have more 'stuff,' to be sure. But we also have less space, which is an odd juxtaposition. The modern house, here in the UK, is build smaller and doesn't allow for the furniture that one used to use for such storage. Sometimes, that's where I get to step in, with the help of amazing design types like Tim Germain, to whom I got to introduce a dear friend to today.  We talked design, travel, cities we love and it was like we'd been meeting up for years. The best kind of introduction.

It reminded me I must formulate the East Anglian Divorce Party plans and get invites sent out. Funny to think that I am more excited about these two parties than I ever was about the wedding. It was weird - I was so enamoured with TB, knew we were heading down the right-ish road but...yeah, it felt like frostnip, slowing turning to frostbite, the panic. Also, at one point, this kind of party was my worst. Flocking. Nightmare. Like all of my selves would collide and implode. I love that I have moved past this fear.

The heat this afternoon was intense, blistering in a way that Mississippi and Louisiana heat is not.  It actually took my breath away and not in 'a sexy tribute to the US Navy' kind of way. It took me down weird thought labrynths about design and storage, about the living and the dead (probably because I am also listening to _The Ghost and Mrs Muir_ whilst I potter around my abode. Like Mrs Muir, I've had an occasion or two to fall in love with dead men.  Occupational hazard, I suppose. Right now, though, I'm content for a cool shower, an iced sleepy time tea and early to bed.  I have a hot date with a new hedge trimmer tomorrow, after all.