My Mama had a saying.
Well, one among many.
“There’s method to my madness.”
That was her way of letting all know that she liked how she did things, organized things, and so on. And asking folks to respect that. It was interesting because she was the most organized person EVER. Her liking her dishwasher loaded a certain way or clothes folded a certain way was a small price to pay for the fact that you could always find anything you needed anytime you needed it because–did I mention this before–she was the most organized person ever. And not in an Ikea/Container Store/fancy basket for every little thing kind of way. She made do with the simple and the basic and still had everything sorted in its proper place. Even the toy closet organization made so much sense that the children never had any trouble putting things away. Each and every visit.
I have found myself saying that exact same thing more and more lately.
Only mine has a little different meaning.
Mine is a near apology, a rationalization for how unorganized my things, my home, my life must seem to the outside world.
“There’s method to my madness. ”
As in–“I know you can’t tell it from looking at it, but I do have a system, and if you give me a minute or fifteen, I can put my hands right on what you are asking me about. Be right back.”
I wish I had Mama’s knack for organization, but I don’t. I’ve tried, and in the midst of organizing–squirrel–something comes up and it all flies out the window.
So no, I’m not super-organized. I can be a bit flighty. Ahem. But I am particular in my ways. “Set,” I guess some folks would say. How I make my bed, load my dishwasher, fold the shirts and towels. And after many years of living with the Queen of Organization not just once but twice and doing things HER way, I reckon I’m thinking it’s time I have folks doing it my way for a bit.
Even if my pendulum swings a little heavier to the madness, as opposed to the method, side of the spectrum.
Wishing you all a little more respect for your method and your madness. Love to all.