Stacks of magazines and newspapers, empty cardboard boxes, half-filled trash bags of clothes to be given away. Junk in every corner, nowhere to sit. How had my living room come to this? I stepped over a broken chair, some out-of-season decorations, plastic tubs full of who knew what. This wasn’t who I wanted to be. But maybe it’s who I am, I thought, plopping down on a sturdy tub.
Years before, as an idealistic young woman living in New York City, I’d dreamed of welcoming friends and neighbors over for coffee, impromptu. “Please, come in!” I imagined calling through the always open door of my cozy, clean apartment. It never happened like that. When friends came by, I’d ask them to wait in the hall. “Give me a second!” I’d call over my shoulder, rushing to shove things under the bed, into the trash, the hamper. I blamed my tiny studio apartment. How could there not be clutter when there was nowhere to put things? If I had enough space, surely I would get my act together.
That didn’t work out either, I reminded myself, shoving aside a box with my toe to reveal the dust bunnies underneath. When I moved to California, to a home with several rooms and closets, my mess had followed—and grew. I buried my face in my hands so I didn’t have to look at it. You realize, God, that I have no idea what’s in the tub I’m sitting on. But the couch was taken up by piles of laundry waiting to be folded. I was so ashamed. A grown woman challenged by the idea of making my bed in the mornings. What’s the matter with me?
A knock at the front door got me up off the mystery tub. I squinted through the peephole and saw my new neighbor, Debra.
I opened the door a slit to be polite, careful to press my knee against it, preventing her from looking inside. “Hi, Linda, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “My phone isn’t installed yet. Can I use yours?”
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Could my husband’s recent retirement explain his behavior?
It wasn’t in my power to mend a broken heart, but I sent needle and thread, with chocolates for good measure
Problems? She Can Relate
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The Humility Sisters
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How could a dog know just what so many people needed?
Built by Angels
My mother called to ask if I knew the story of the 11 churches carved from single stones in Ethiopia
ONE RED GLOVE
Its message helped me shake the blues
Clutter, Be Gone!
Fifteen minutes a day keeps the mess away
A housewarming gift
My husband seemed to be in every room— even though I knew he was in heaven
Gin 'n' It
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National Parks: Made for You and Me
Chasing Joan Didion
I visited the writer's California homes, from Berkeley to Malibu. What was looking for?
CALIFORNIA LAYS OUT PLAN TO DRASTICALLY CUT FOSSIL FUEL USE
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FOR A MEASURE OF JUST HOW FED UP AMERICAN WORKERS ARE, LOOK TO STARBUCKS, WHERE BARISTAS ARE UNIONIZING ALA PACE THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN UNIMAGINABLE A YEAR AGO AND INSPIRING SIMILAR ACTIVISM ELSEWHERE
EMOTIONS PLAY A BIG ROLE IN WHAT WE REMEMBER
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Cups of Gold Stoic and Tenacious!
If you can get your hands on some seed packets of the California poppy and show the picture of the golden, cup-shaped flowers on them to a kid, chances are great that the answer would be a positive ‘yes!’, and in two ticks you will have happy and excited company in the garden to help you to sow the seed.