For the longest time this (beginning of) winter, we waited for a snowfall, and it looked like we might be celebrating a grassy, muddy Christmas. The white stuff eventually came down in a pretty big way, and right now we've got piles of it next to the driveways, paths through the yards, and a big heap of it on the barn bridge.
For me, nothing says "clean and tidy" like a fresh snowfall--a pristine, white blanket to cover over the muddy tire ruts and the dirty slush on the roadside. Mother Nature, doing the work for us.
Indoors, we have to put in the effort, ourselves. Luckily, I like cleaning. While the acts of scrubbing, sweeping, dusting and vacuuming are not necessarily fun, they are tasks that lead to immediate gratification, which is fun. I'm also a devotee of the MariKondo method. If it doesn't bring joy or serve a necessary purpose, out it goes!* The Pandemic lockdowns and quarantines have sent many people cleaning and tidying, and organizing, talking about it online and seeking tips and inspiration. (The term "tidying" shows 1587 results on the Four County Library System's website! Netflix offers Marie Kondo's show, and a multitude of like steams.) To me and to many, clean means serene.
I am tempted to offer parallels between cleaning house and happiness to
(a) next week's Presidential inauguration, or
(b) COVID-19 vaccines becoming available, or
(c) offloading thousands of cellphone photos,
but that will wait for later.
Until then, I'll be turning off this device and turning up the volume on the Hoopla stream of Marie's "The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up," the soundtrack to my afternoon of organizing my studio.
*until Ron digs it out of the trash