Excuse Me While I Neatly Fold my Guest Towels
The Christmas tree still up in February is not something I'm particularly proud of, but at least I had taken the ornaments and lights off.
Having a house in the process of being renovated gives me a little leeway. Paint cans stacked in the hall, sandpaper on the counter, patches of experimental paint on the walls, peeling paint on every inch of woodwork, slanty floor, leaky gutter - none of that embarasses me because it is part of an ongoing project.
So take that, Mom! I refuse to be ashamed that my house doesn't yet look like Martha Stewart's, that it probably doesn't even measure up to her prison cell. That's OK. I'd rather have my freedom - figuratively and literally.