My mother was a collector. We had a large home that was filled with antiques that she diligently hunted for. It was also the home of “orphaned” furnishings; sometimes passed down to her from family members who were redecorating and sometimes from family members who had actually passed. She took them all in, becoming somewhat of the family furnishing historian. Though she had a real eye for antiques and a keen decorating sense, our house was packed.
I was the resident duster. It wasn’t a title I vied for, the sheer amount of "to be dusted" collectibles was overwhelming, not to mention time consuming. I soon realized that the more organized a space was, the less time I was indoors dusting. So I organized. I organized spaces, closets, the attic, I went as far as switching entire rooms for better functionality. My mother didn’t appreciate this when, returning home after a long night shift, she tripped over a newly placed coffee table in her former dining room. I was onto something......more organization equals more time….yay me!
