sorted

I am not a minimal sort of person.

'Really', I hear you say. 'We would n-e-v-e-r have known that. Yawn.'

'Tell us something we don't know.'

'Like, how do you balance your obsessive-compulsive, overly fussy, attention to detail, OTT, mess detesting, drive your family bonkers Virgo self with the obsessive-collector magpie, who just can't help herself when it comes to gathering 'stuff'?'

Quite simple really.

A place for everything, and everything in its place.

Example no.1 - the old postal cubbyhole sorter above.

This steel treasure has been around the traps. 

It has known Errol's and Frank's and Milly's and Eva's - because Errol and Frank had both carved their names on it, loud & clear, and more recently, it entertained my girls for hours at our office, because it contained cubbyhole after cubbyhole of makeup testers.

After ten years on makeup duty, I thought it deserved a little bit of a makeover itself.

A visit to the powder-coater, a smart new uber-dark grey paint job, and my postal sorter has a new role in life.

It sorts all my little treasures - rulers, kokeshis, peg dolls, and all sorts of ephemera. 

Lots of little things that I move in, and move out again. Little things that, depending on how you look at them, could tend towards 'clutter' if spread out everywhere, but are kept in check by their allocated cubbyhole. Little things that in themselves are not remotely cohesive, but look so, because they're all 'sorted'.

Oh, and did I mention the magazines? Look how perfect it is for my magazines.

Inside Out, Elle Deco, Living etc, all in their piles, and easily accessible - you see, a place for everything, and everything in its' place!

Who said I was overly fussy?

Amanda xx

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