I would like to line our roof deck with tall prairie grass and am on the hunt for planters. Holy hell. Why is a box so freakin’ expensive!?

My German-descended grandmother had an awesome junk drawer. It had things like batteries and red-handled scissors, and also container a plethora of candy and candy bars. It was quite an organized junk drawer. I like to attribute her organization skills to that German heritage.

Since she is my blood relation, I also happen to have that German streak in me. I like an organized junk drawer. Mine is pretty organized — neat little containers holding all sorts of things from coins to tape to dry cleaning receipts. I studied hard and learned well.

Thing is, my grandmother didn’t own a cell phone or digital camera or mobile messaging device. She left me no clues on how to make that area so orderly, evidenced by Exhibit A:

Exhibit A: Junk Area

My “electronic docking system” has been overrun by prescription and over-the-counter meds, jewelry and any other miscellaneous item that either doesn’t have a home or whose home is simply too far away. Here’s a closer look:

Exhibit B: Close-up of Junk Area

This area needed quite some bit of pruning, which I quickly realized hinged on the re-organization of how I store medications. It’s as though medicines simply spilled from the cabinet above onto the counter.

Oh my word, do we have medications!

Heaps of Medication

Here’s what’s in the brown paper bag in the picture above:

Close-up of Brown Paper Bag in Picture Above: Allergy Meds

Since I seem to organize sheerly around the availability of brown paper bags, a half-cut grocery bag serves as the home for our first aid supplies…:

Brown Paper Bag Serves as Storage for First Aid Supplies

…most of which were purchased when this happened:

Flip-Top Finger

Is it any wonder we put our impulsive child on meds — the meds which are now causing me such organizational grief — at such a young age?

(Don’t worry, he was fine):

A Hurt Finger Freshly Bandaged is a Happy Finger -- and don't you dare rip this off!

Anyway. Back to organizing.

Let’s dump out that bag of first aid supplies, shall we? For the record, we shall note that there exists (1) enough  gauze and tape to stop a maimed elephant from hemorrhaging, and (2) so many alcohol swabs, I could send a year’s supply to that ear piercing kiosk at the local mall :

Gauze and Tape Galore

Oh, wait. What did I just see on the counter’s “Junk Area” as I’m taking the picture above? Another brown bag filled with this:

Prescription Meds E-Niner No Longer Takes. Whoa. That was a lot.

So. Meds, gauze, electronics, miscellaneous. We can get this organized in no time!

Let’s just toss out all the meds we no longer need or are expired:

Expired or No Longer Needed Meds

Get rid of the old flower pot base:

What's Growing Here?

Put all the first aid and medication back where they belong now that there is room:

Brown Paper Bag and Empty Box of Chicken Fries Used for Entirely Organizational Purposes

Two hours later………..

Voila!

Medicine Box Stored in Velvet Lined Drawer

Jewelry (all purchased from Target and formerly kept in a flower pot's saucer) Stored in Velvet Lined Drawer

I think my German grandmother — hell, all my grandparents and Martha Stewart — would be proud.

The only thing is, where should I put that enormous black tray too big for cabinets that used to hold everything? I know!

The Oven

Watch me clean-up my house! The exilhiration! The conflict! The never-ending pile of crap to do! Make yourself feel better by watching me fight my battles! One more exclamation point!

My house is a mess neatly concealed behind cabinets, cupboards, drawers and lots of brown paper bags.

Of greatest priorty to straighten up was the looming stack of mail and papers that I haven’t touched in nearly two months:

Stack o' Mail

I have a problem with money (don’t we all). My problem is that when I know I owe more than I can afford, I ignore the debt as long as possible. And when I say ignore, I mean that I try often to put it from my mind. I do what I can to pay it off on time. … Mostly on time.

I had been intently ignoring this pile for quite some time because I knew this insurance statement from the hospital was among the ranks:

Inpatient Hospital Statement

My camera phone isn’t the greatest. The total charges read over $32,300.00. What concerned me when I first opened this, is that it says the account balance is over $14,000.00. At the time, insurance had only paid $17,000 and change.

What I didn’t realize was that, this was among the ranks too:

Partial Hospitalization Statement

This is the bill for E-Niner’s partial hospitalization. Nothing has been paid on it, which means $6,111.00 is outstanding.

We had already met our sky-high deductible by the time E-Niner was admitted. I was sure that insurance would cover everything. I was keeping fingers and toes crossed that I wouldn’t find the actual bill for $14,000.00 and an additional $6,000.00 in the pile somewhere.

To my great pleasure, I found nothing of the sort. I’m going to continue to ignore this problem hoping that the hospital and insurance company work this out between themselves. I think it’s a safe bet.

All sorted, the stack of mail now looks like this:

Papers to File

Which leads me to another trick…filing.

…it would be nice to have the house organized, fixed-up, clean.

One of my more superficial life fantasies is that my house is worthy of being in one of those home magazines. I don’t care which one. A good one.

Our place in its current condition is nowhere near magazine-worthy. First off, we have this:

Cracked Toilet Seat

Which I would have illuminated better, but we also have this:

No Bathroom Lighting

And in case that crack in the seat doesn’t rev your engine, this exists in our house, too:

Broken Toilet Lid

Just so we’re clear on how it currently operates:

Broken Toilet Lid (Closed Position)

So, like I said, nowhere near magazine worthy. But one can dream, and my dream is that I’ll be able to get my house fixed-up, organized, and cleaned-up sometime in the foreseen future.

Of course, accidents will happen. Children with bad tempers in our house (I’m not naming names, but if you’ve followed this blog long enough, you know exactly who I’m talking about) will slam down on toilet lids just as hard as they can to crack them and break them.

Or slam doors so hard that door handles will break…:

Door Handle Missing Tumbler Upstairs

Door Knob Missing Tumbler Downstairs

…and locks will become inoperable:

Or play rough near the kitchen china, which may one day break as a result:

But over time, I’ll be able to clean all this up. I’ll be able to organize. Maybe one day I’ll be able to be on top of all the things that need fixing around here instead of feeling behind the playground ball.

Someday, when my house is in order, I’ll move onto whatever fantasy comes next. And when I make that next move, I’ll quote one of my most favorite lines:

“I did not want my tombstone to read,

‘She kept a really clean house.’”

– Former Texas Governor Ann Richards