Oh Housekeepers I am in such a muddle.

This muddley state visits me every so often and when it does I find myself quite unable to get a grip on the usual measure of things, so letters go unposted and bills un-paid. Stacks of this and that start multiplying all by themselves and if I take a minute or two to breathe deeply, I notice to my utter horror, that in the effort to get through the days, love my son, hold up my rather hectic social life and be omnipresent at BrocanteHome, I have been cirmumnavigating a pile of pint-sized shoes at the front door for over two weeks now. This m’dears is the road to Rack and Ruin.

While I have taught myself not to batter myself around the head with a frying pan whenever loving life gets in the way of loving my house, there comes a point where comfort and chaos collide and it becomes nigh on impossible to love life if household neglect has reached such a degree that merely living has become a challenge all by itself.

Enough already Housekeepers. As I plan to TRASH IT or TREASURE IT right alongside you, I consider it absolutely necessary to spend today GETTING A GRIP on myself and my current rather lacksadaisical attitude to everything from the three bags of sand and cement currently serving time in my dining room to the eyebrows so overgrown they are almost a Frida Kahlo style unibrow (which wasn’t pretty on her and trust me, sure ain’t pretty on me).

You see readers, we can’t even begin to throw ourselves into a new project while we are living in a state of chaos. Today is the day we have to call time on laziness and doziness and busy-ness and -and domestic blindness and tackle all the silly little bits of nothing that are standing in our way of seeing a path through to tomorrow, let alone a path to peace at Christmas!

Today is the day we have to pick up the frozen pea hanging out under the freezer. Post that letter to a friend. Wash the dogs blanket, plant out those bulbs, ring the gas board and SHOUT, move the books piling up at your bedside, shift the blackcurrant juice stain on the living room carpet, refuse that invitation, get a new kitchen tap, check the passports, find the necklace you plan to wear to the wedding, move the recycling bin off the front path, throw out the weekend’s newspapers, tell the kids a firm but final NO, take the quilt to the cleaners, return the library books, climb under the sofa to grab that lost bit of lego, put the dvd’s back in their cases, book the doctors appointment, and (damn it) give the loo a thorough going over.

Today is the day we have got to give short thrift to the flotsam and jetsam blocking the plughole of our our lives and make space in our heads to make space in our homes. We can’t begin to TRASH IT or TREASURE IT if we are bothered by a list of teeny tiny bothersome jobs that are standing in the way of allowing us to see the bigger (probably even messier!) picture!

Today stop procastinating and get brave: do all the rubbish jobs.  Do them one after another and don’t dilly dally on the way. Concentrate instead on how wonderful we are going to feel this evening when the weight that is all that we choose to ignore has been lifted!  Do the rubbish jobs today, take a long, pampery bath this evening and tomorrow perform a diddy, done in a day, version of the Seasonal Scrub, so your efforts on Wednesday aren’t hampered by a sudden, all encompassing urge to clean in an effort to escape the emotional horrors of clutter-busting the BrocanteHome way…

Ok? If I can do it, so can you.

I’m off to post a pile of letters while the washing machine runs through a lemon and vinegar hot wash. Where will you start?