Sometimes it's not the organization that's important...

I know I have mentioned my tendency to be a little OCD.  I could easily let it get overboard; I make a concerted effort to be disciplined about it.  I am aware that it could drive my family, and me, off the deep end.  Come to think of it, each member of my family has their own little OCD issues so this might be a case of the pot calling the kettle black.

So, what am I trying to say?  I am very organized, my house is organized, until I began sharing a car with my children, my car was organized.  Being organized makes my life easier therefore, I am happy.  There is precious little around here that isn't in its' designated spot.  What doesn't have a permanent spot, still has a spot.  It's either next in line waiting to be put in its' permanent spot or, it's in a designated place for misfits in the hopes that the misfits find their missing parts. Sheesh, right?


Their is one spot in my home that is not quite so organized and, perhaps even an inefficient use of space.  That's okay because this shelf makes me smile.  This shelf holds jars of Mom's sewing notions.  Wooden spools of colorful thread, metal bobbins and buttons.  It's in my closet so I'm apt to pass it many times in one day.  It never fails to make smile, and almost always reminds me of something that Mom created for me: perhaps a dress, or maybe my first book bag that she made for me to use in first grade.  She pain-stakingly drew Winnie the Pooh hanging from a balloon on felt and stitched it on a beautiful white vinyl bag that she sewed.  I still have the bag.  It shows it's age but Pooh is still hanging on. 


Sometimes it's not the organization that's important, it's the items placed randomly on a shelf that bring back a special memory and a smile.