Sue Spitulnik

I pile things. I don’t mean piles of ten-year-old newspapers in the corners and aisles of my living room like a hoarder. I do mean some sort of pile on most flat surfaces in my home. That means sweatshirts worn once are piled on the chair in my bedroom. It means the catalogs that came at holiday time are still piled on the coffee table waiting for me to look at them. It also means the kitchen island has a few days’ mail, the recipe I might use tomorrow, my cell phone holder, the American Legion Poppy that came off my coat zipper, and this morning’s used coffee cup cluttering it. In the family room, cat toys litter the fireplace hearth, and sewing paraphernalia covers the end of the long table that doesn’t get used when my husband and I eat a meal. Like I said, piles.

This evening we are having Sally over for dinner. That means the piles need to disappear. I should have company once a week so they don’t reappear. I digress.

I’m an organized, pre-planner-type person. Today is Thursday. I started reducing some of my piles on Monday. After attacking another pile, I checked my recipes and made the grocery list on Tuesday. I got the groceries on Wednesday, fussing because the top shelf in the new milk cooler at the store is too high for me to reach. When I got home, I put the groceries away and inspected the common rooms for other things that I needed to put away, hide in the storeroom, or throw out, finally.

This morning I put the pot roast ingredients in the crockpot before going to my dentist appointment and lunch date, knowing I would have time to clean the bathroom, set the table, and even take a quick nap before my husband got home from work and Sally arrived.

I should share; Sally is coming over to bring me some t-shirts that I will work my magic on to turn into a wall hanging. It will be a memorial to her late husband and my dear friend, Dack. Anybody that knows a quilter should understand and accept that quilting is much more important to the “artist” than cleaning the house—or taking care of things instead of piling them on a flat surface.

I sat down to write this summary to give you the opportunity to laugh with me. Today, when I came in the kitchen door from the garage, I did a double-take when I saw the island’s clean surface. For a split second, I wondered where all my “stuff” went. That’s how long it’s been since we’ve had company, and I needed to make my piles disappear.

So, Sally, thank you for asking me to do a sewing project for you and thank you for coming to dinner. I know it will be an enjoyable evening, and for a couple of days, my flat surfaces will remain uncluttered.