I’ve been looking at this pile of shoes . . . pretty much all summer.
Every time I see it, it irritates me. Every time I see it and my brain acknowleges that I see it, it REALLY irritates me.
I’ve tripped over it. I’ve sorted through it to find the shoes I needed. I’ve disliked it. I’ve dreamed of the day when I’d have time to fix it.
So today, I took the entire three minutes necessary to move the shoes from the big ridiculous, unexcusable pile to the handy-dandy shelf where they actually go . . . four feet away.
And in that three minutes, I took the somehow-previously-invisible-and-completely-unnecessary-since-baseball-season-ended-in-June cleats to their home in the bottom drawer of the dresser in the boys’ closet.
And in this closed drawer, I found a needed-to-be-found-before-it-was-forever-ruined-by-mildew towel.
Yes, mother, don’t worry. I know you read the blog, and I can hear your gasp.
I am constantly amazed that when I stop ignoring one thing, my eyes are opened to other things . . . things that need to be seen as well.