Summer Clutter

Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability. ~Sam Keen

I have to admit that, when I read Sam Keen's quote above, I felt completely vindicated in my summer bad habits. In the winter, when the snow is piling up, and Nor'easters hit the coast of Maine with bone chilling temperatures, it's actually easier to become, and remain, organized. The fact is, I am stuck inside. Why not clear out clutter from one area a day...or even one room a week? It's kind of fun, in a self-congratulatory sort of way, to make a cup of hot Chai, put on some B.B. King, and dance as I organize the pantry. I can have a fire lit in the fireplace, cinnamon-raisin bread baking in the oven, and tick off my project to do list, item by item. It's both edifying and uplifting to feel productive when it's 5 degrees outside. I can easily plug away for hours, and then pat myself on the back, with a 'cat who stole the cream' expression of smugness.

But, as the poet said, 'then came summer'. Just as it is easier for me to remain firm in my clutter clearing contemplations in February, it's nearly impossible to remember them in July. The beach calls my name. The ocean beckons me. Meals become whatever we can pack and bring with us, or eat easily on the deck. A sinful amount of takeout boxes spill over the rubbish bin. In short, I lose all motivation in summer to stay ahead of the curve. I want to be outside too much. Even if I'm doing nothing more productive than hanging in the hammock and watching the birds discuss world events in the trees above, I just can't be bothered to stay ahead of my laundry pile or sort my bills efficiently. And, then of course, I feel tremendous guilt for reading a book on a breezy afternoon, rather than make sure my children have actually thrown out empty cereal boxes, instead of replacing them on the shelf.

I've had a bit of an epiphany about my slovenly summer style: it's okay. It's okay that the dog toys have littered the back yard like pathetic Easter eggs. It's okay that my pantry contains as many empty containers as full ones. It's okay that the folded laundry remains nicely folded on the kitchen table...and each one of us seems to just take what we need from the pile, rather than putting it away. It's okay that I drive around with three beach chairs, towels and snacks in the back of my car, just in case we might sneak to the sand for an hour. It's okay that my summer reading pile has overflown my bedside table and is begging for its own zip code. It's all okay. Summer is special. With summer comes a release from all manner of 'have to' and 'need to' projects on my list. The warmer days mean I can walk barefoot all the time, and not worry about mopping more than once every couple of weeks. The hot evenings mean less bed linens to launder. I feel liberated from my binding routine.

Still, I don't want the house to be declared unsafe or unsanitary. As much as I would like daydream up "Rosie" from the "The Jestons" to come clean for me, I set aside one day per week to get all my chores done. I find that writing this on the calendar makes it 'a date' that I can't miss. So, rather than do work every day, I give one day over to get as much done as I can. I clean the bathrooms, do innumerable loads of laundry, cook meals ahead of time, vacuum, dust, mop, iron and do whatever small bit of organizing I can with the time left over. Is my house perfect right now? Absolutely not. Will I be turned in by the health inspector? No, on that count, as well. There are stacks of shoes by the door, scads of magazines on the tables and towels hanging to dry over my fence railing. But, it's all okay. It's summer.

I'll get to the rest of it this Fall.