Sunday droops

Ophelia has my mobile in her hands at the moment. I like calling it a mobile rather than a cell phone.
I do not need to attend the Cyclones game this evening; I merely need to escort Nigel to meet Bernie; from there the two of them will make their way out to Coney Island, and meet up with Nigel’s godfather and said godfather’s son at Nathan’s before heading to the ball park.
I will then pick up Italian food from a place near where Bernie lives and make my way back to the family shoebox to face laundry and my space. My space is so nice in one way: it never demands much attention from me. Oh, it’s got all sorts of stuff strewn around it. But neither it nor I are quite sure what we ought to do about that stuff. Maybe just make it so that there is more meness about it. There’s a poster of Newgrange over the desk, a nice big one with a photo taken on a day when a rainbow was arching over the tumulus. There are my “You’ve Been Spotted” ribbon and certificate from Shadow Poetry when I had space there; I’ve since let that lapse. I’ve got postcards from lots of different places Folláin has sent as she has gone here and there. Pictures of the kids; favorite and/or currently pertinent books. This computer, its rather old fat monitor, an HP DeskJet 952C printer; a scanner on a shelf below the main desk. CDs in a small shelving unit. A huge monitor sitting useless on an ugly dining room chair inherited by mistake for no good reason. Four matching dining room chairs bought when this family was just starting to form itself. That’s five dining chairs. No dining table; two skinny mattresses in a pile for a bed. They make an okey bed for the time being.
My space and I sit together and stare at all the other stuff lying around. We can do a basic cleanup, we decide, while the laundry is in the machines. We can prepare it for being more mine, less everyone’s dumping zone/computer lab. My clothing is tucked into drawers in the living room, and the coat closet by the door.
My stuff and I know quite well what our next place will be like. It will be apart from dumpers, and there will need to be more than one computer because I do not like having Limewire on mine, and I will be living separately but conveniently reachable.
For now, we will minimize the evidence of intrusions and see if we can’t find a place for whatever actually needs to be here. Clear and clean.
That, I think, will be my goal from this day forward: clear and clean.