The heat has hit Arizona, driving me indoors. Some evenings are tolerable allowing me to venture out for a glass of wine as I read before jumping into the pool. The sun has warmed the water, though, so by evening it is more bath-like than refreshing.
My hope for a she-shed is only a dream as I look around the house at the projects I would like to tackle in this season of Arizona cabin fever. Some of them limit me to my computer which is housed on a small table in my bedroom. At times my “office” is cozy; other times, claustrophobic, driving me to the kitchen for space to strew papers across the island and table.
Sewing is housed in our den/study/music room. The machine, previously hidden away, is now permanently stationed on the makeshift sewing table to allow storage for a new business. The worst thing about sewing: the mess. Completion of a project requires that fabric, tools, ironing board, and stray threads occupy the room for the duration. In our case, the room is in the middle of the house in full sight.
I hate messes. A shared household requires constant vigilance to keep areas picked up and neat. Realizing that everyone needs to leave some things out occasionally (if the letter isn’t sitting in view, I won’t mail it), I am not a fanatic. But multiplied by five, articles can accumulate quickly, exacerbated by the friends and family who leave items here regularly.
My previous houses had a room for study (grad school), crafts (picture framing), hobbies (sewing), and getting away. My form of she-shed, I guess. Can I learn to live with a mess, even temporarily? If not, it will be a very long summer.