I know, I know. I’ve used this cartoon twice already and this makes three times.

But this is what my commute has looked like for so long, I can’t remember what it was like before.

Southern Indiana is famous for its roadwork-in-progress, but by the time one project is finished, it’s time to begin all over again on the other side.

It’s kind of like trying to keep a house full of children, tidy. You’re walking along, leaving a trail of tidy behind you, and they’re right behind you, leaving a trail of clutter. After a while it’s as though you and your family were performing the circle of redskins/pirates/lost boys chapter from Peter Pan.

I love it when my house is tidy. I loathe clutter, and sometimes I feel buried in it. Everyone but me, in this house, is a clutter-monger.

Let me put that another way. MY clutter is important. THEIR clutter is just piles of ‘stuff.’

My mother, raising four kids in a teeny-tiny little house, used to say that one of her dreams was to have an empty room in her house, just an empty room, so she could just go into it and shut the door and see floor and wall space, uncluttered. I used to think that was nuts. I don’t any more.

This is my day off. I should be de-cluttering instead of sitting here blogging. Maybe that’s what I’ll do in a few minutes. Maybe. In a few minutes. Yes, that’s what I’ll probably do in a few minutes.

Would anyone care to buy some prime Everglades real estate?

Ah, well. I gave up trying to beat the clutter years ago. Once in a while I whirl through the house like the proverbial White Tornado (see how old I am?) and when I’m finished, the house is safe for company. Hey, isn’t it coming on holiday time?

Holiday Time? It IS!!!

Okay, where did I lean that mop last winter?