I come from a family of "pile-ers" and tend to feel most secure when surrounded by my "stuff." I've been feeling weighed down lately by all this clutter. 

        

Really, it is. I've lived in many different climates in this fair country, and can say with certainty that I find Mother Nature to be very annoying when she's capricious, changing every few hours to suit her mood. (How dare she, that brazen hussy of folkloric legend?!) I sometimes get impatient waiting for the weather to make up its mind and stick to something resembling "seasons." Yup, don't say I've never taken a controversial stand, my friends.

        

Oh, the joys of moving! I've moved so many times in my life; you'd think I'd have it down to a science by now. But in reality it's anything but a science, and I do tend to follow similar patterns when it comes to moving, and this move was no exception.

Stage 1:
Plan, plan, plan - I surveil the new place with the eye of a New York Times senior editor, take copious and precise measurements, worry about colors and generally fuss over every detail in anticipation of my new, perfect home where I will live in perfect bliss, a zen-like existence complete with songbirds and cool breezes flowing through.

Stage 2:
Pack, pack, pack - I gather the boxes and begin the packing process. I make sure to cushion everything with the care that one would use to pack the Queen's crystal. I label each box with specific information about the contents and where the contents are destined to be set up in the new place. I stack the boxes in strategic places, taking care not to block doorways or pathways.

Stage 3:
Panic, panic, panic - A total free-for-all. Clothing, soap, English Breakfast Tea, DVDs are gracelessly thrown in boxes, bags and laundry baskets. How on earth am I going to get all this stuff out of here in the next hour, not to mention cleaning the spilled syrup out of the fridge, spot-cleaning all the mysterious stains out of the carpet, trapping and transporting my surly cat, and spackling the myriad holes in the walls created by overzealous picture-hanging? I just got cleanser in my eye, and I'm having a dust-driven allergy attack that no amount of pharmaceuticals can beat. Go, go, go...!

We got the place emptied out, though, and very clean. I have to say that both my husband and I are dream tenants - we always leave the place better than it was upon our arrival. Installed shelves in the pantry, planted flowers and lined the cabinets with lovely paper. Mr. Landlord better love the place!

In the meantime, I sit here listening to the dishwasher (hooray! didn't have one of those at the old place) cleaning up the batch of dirty dishes created during the havoc of the move. Boxes, baskets and bags of untold treasures surround me. Time to start chipping away at it. Chip, chip, chip -- hey, what's on the telly?

        

The hubby and I are moving to a new home this month. I'm approaching this as an opportunity to purge a lot of the clutter that I've accumulated with the ultimate goal of moving into the new place with only those things that truly serve a purpose in the life I live now. This is not easy for a clutter chick like me, but I'm as determined as I've been in a long time. Stay tuned for updates!

        

Mulberry season is in full swing up here in Santa Fe, and my allergies are packing a whollop. In the spirit of allergen-avoiders everywhere, here are some cool Etsy picks for those of us who sniffle, wheeze, itch and cough our way through the seasons. Gesundheit already!

        

Check out this designer profile and giveaway from the very talented designer behind KimberlyJonesDesigns. Her unique work is lovely and so striking.

Check out this link to the get the whole scoop, on one of my favorite blogs, Daily Finds & Giveaways.

        

   

        

        

Today I'm selecting items that flow with Sheryl Crow's style -- gritty yet pretty, bohemian-meets-country, tomboy with great flowing tresses.

        

I always feel a small victory when I finally get a piece uploaded to etsy. Now to work on the others...