This past week my manic quilting was replaced by manic decluttering.

Sigh.

As the end of the Covid isolation is nearing, as is our flight to Spokane (69 days), I can’t wait to enjoy a campfire by the lake.  I want to bundle up in my warmest jacket and–rain or shine–collect driftwood and look for arrowheads on the beach.  I want to perch on my favorite log and drink coffee.  I want to see an eagle.

But for now?  My cure for stress has always been buying plastic containers and putting stuff inside of them.  A pandemic has not changed that.

Of course I had to sneak the new plastic purchases past Banjo Man, who thankfully was on the phone when I returned from Home Depot having bought all six boxes on the shelf (and wished there were more).

A decade of “Buying Pretty Boxes At Home Goods” has ended.

After several days of sorting and organizing, here’s the result:

The remaining white boxes on the top left hold my vintage button collections.  I ran out of (a) energy and (b) plastic storage boxes.  Maybe next winter…

Here’s a bag filled with three pretty boxes of sewing notions and fun stuff for Harley Chick’s craft-minded granddaughter.

I love my label maker.   Can you tell?

And now I sit here with my second cup of coffee, listening to Tom Waites (The Early Years, Vol. 2) and wondering what I can throw away or repackage next.

Banjo Man had better watch out.