How Can You Downsize and Rent Out Your House While Suffering From ADD and Possibly Alzheimer’s

Disorganized Pandemonium


It’s All Trisha’s Fault.

It all started with an article by Trisha on downsizing or organizing your STUFF. Like books.

I started well enough by going through my closet and weeding out all the dresses and business clothes since I don’t work and will probably never work again. And then something caught my eye – my jewelry from when I was a Cookie Lee dealer and so pretty soon, I was on the bed, sorting through all the jewelry I haven’t sold and won’t wear and maybe I’ll try to sell – oh! And there, I found a bracelet that I probably WILL wear and so I looked for something to – oh! An organizing tool box with little cubbyholes, just right for jewelry and so – oh! There are the dress suits I bought when I was a size 8, never to be that thin again unless I stop eating for a month. What to do. What to do. And then as I’m walking through the kitchen with the suits to put in bags for the Women’s Transition Center, I see a couple dirty dishes and I stop and fill the sink, wash the dishes that I have slowly accrued since I am only at the house once a week. And then I walk back in the bedroom – oh! The tool box is sitting there open and empty and I start sorting through the jewelry again and pull out just enough pieces for me to personally wear sometime in the next 20-30 years. And then I see the book case, and start sorting out the books I want to keep with the books I want to give to Goodwill. And then I spy the huge flower vase full of coins and next to it the empty coin rolls to fill and I start sorting the quarters, nickels, dimes, and pennies and . . .

Four hours later I have a huge pile of books, dresses, jewelry, rolled up coins and – oh! All those bottles in the utility room. What to do! What to do! What to do!


Sarah Plain and Small

When Gabrielle Giffords was gravely wounded along with several others by a young unhinged man, and six innocent bystanders killed, something absolute and unconditional happened: a nation split by politics, debates, innuendos, pointing fingers, blaming others, and selfish prattling, was moved to unite and to reprioritize what is important.

And in a far corner in Alaska, Sarah Palin could only take the low road and interpreted the whole episode in Arizona and references to her “cross hairs map” personally.

Sarah, here’s my message to you: Shut up and sit down. It is not about you.

To repeat the words of President Barak Obama:

We can be better.


Mommy Magic

Remember how you used to watch your child leave for First Grade all by himself? You know the time. It was after the 23rd time that you walked him to school and finally released him like a little bird from the nest. You watched him walk down the sidewalk, growing smaller and smaller and smaller, until he was a tiny (tinier than he actually was) little speck in the distance. That watching was your Mommy Magic. It embraced your child and protected him from all kinds of danger, from cars, from strangers, from dogs, from mud slinging from the road, from any manner of harm. You didn’t close the front door until you gave that little speck an extra hard mesmerizing stare that would cover him for the day and bring him home.

I did it. Often. It was a ritual of mine that I just HAD to do. Later, when my oldest joined the Army, I realized I had the power to lift planes with my Mommy Magic. I would stare at that plane until it was a tiny little speck far, far off the horizon and I would not leave my post until I had used up all of my super vision.

I have the same power with words. Like saying, “Drive careful.” Every time my “boys” leave my house, I must say the magic words, “Drive careful.” And I, my power, will make it so. Or, when they were little and we were visiting anyone. My one word would ring out, Behave.” And like magic, they sat still and didn’t play in dirt and didn’t sock each other in the eye.

Um, the last is actually a poor example. When they visit me and start acting like apes doing a comedy routine and I say, "Behave!", they just laugh at me.

I have discovered I still have the mind power going after 38 years. I blessed my son, moving to Arizona, with my sage advice: “Drive careful.” (Plus, pack your car with two blankets, sleeping bag, water, food to last four days in case you get stuck in the snow and can’t get out.) I watched him walk to his car, my vision boring into the back of his head, memorizing his body, and didn’t close the door until he was a little speck on the road, far, far away.

After two days and the obligatory “Drive careful”, he made it to his new apartment safe, sound, and in one piece.

So, my job is never done. :)