I’ve turned into a person who’s gone all tidy-uppie.
I’m not very domesticated. It’s a rare thing to catch me with a duster in my hand.
Let me put this into context. Years ago I was the victim of a burglary and I duly gave the list of missing goods to the police. It was a month before I noticed the thieves had also stolen the Dyson vacuum cleaner.
Another time, at work, I noticed through the newsroom window that it was raining. I said to my work pal Steve “oooh look, it’s raining and I’ve left the washing outside”. He said: “Jane, that’s the most feminine thing I’ve ever heard you say.” I said: “Yes, well. But its been outside a week.”
As I said. I’m not very domesticated. Dairy cattle are more domesticated than me.
I’ve gone all tidy-uppie partly because its a New Year New Start and all that – but mainly because I want a tidy place and a tidy mind.
I sat on the bed on Sunday and rifled through all the bedside drawers, throwing stuff away, rediscovering forgotten things, finding little memories. A lock of my hair from when I was baby which mum had saved all her life; a Wembley FA Cup final ticket stub from 1947 (dad was there to see Burnley FC lose in the 114th minute). Keepsakes from special peoples’ lives all tangled up in a bedside drawer.
Now the precious things are breathing again and the rubbish is in the bin.
I feel better for it. Uncluttered. I suppose its fung suede or however you spell it.
The reason for this sudden domestic diversion? I’m a bit nervous to be honest. I’m due to start my online wine diploma through the Wine & Spirit Education Trust on February 18. I need to be organised. I need to have a clean desktop, albeit a virtual one. I need to be good at juggling stuff even though as a kid I was always pretty rubbish at playing catch.
I’ve bought diary refills for the Filofax, rediscovered in the drawer and last used in 2009. No matter how easy it is to make notes in the ether, I like writing things down.
I’ve thrown away loads of pens. Pens with no ink tend to be a bit useless at writing things down. I’ve put all my old WSET wine books in a pile. I need to re-read them before February 18. I can now set myself reading goals in the new diary pages in the Filofax using a pen which has ink in it.
I’m doing the tidy-uppie thing so I can do the keepie-uppie thing with the diploma. I want everything where it should be from the beginning of this impending two-year spare-time odyssey. Yes, I’ll be juggling time and work, let alone space, but it will be organised juggling.
Just don’t ask me to dust.
*I’ll be writing this Wine Diploma Diary as the two years unfold.
The bit about the break-in made me smile (not because you’d been burgled, I hasten to add!).
When I was about 18 and still living at home we were burgled and back then the police actually came round to dust for fingerprints, etc (whatever happened to the police? Are they still going?).
The detective went into my bedroom and weighed up the scene: “They’ve made a right mess in here, son. Really sorry to see that – what a gang of low-lifes”.
Of course, my bedroom was one of the few places the burglars HADN’T been into! 🙂
ha ha – that’s funnier than my story ..!