My Own Personal Hades

I was going to call this post "go to Hell" but thought I might offend my following of 2-3 people who actually read this blog.

I thought about this because Sarah called me one day and said when we go to Hell we are going to be required to move. She had been moving her office all day (it was about 10 pm!!) and felt that was surely what Eternal damnation was going to be. Perhaps that would be an appropriate punishment, for we are all so wrapped up in our wordly possessions that we might have to pack them, move them, unpack them and then start all over again throughout the eternities.

Those of you who have read Dante's Divine Comedy (most specifically the Inferno) are familiar with the levels of Hell and the punishments that are so specific to the type of sin or sinner. For those of us who are not so well-read, perhaps we have read The Dante Club, a very nice mystery with the Inferno as a framework for the story. This is kind of like admitting that I only read the comics in the newspaper. Bob said I shouldn't say that publically; people might think I am shallow. It's OK. I am shallow. Anyway, I haven't read Dante, but I have read The Dante Club. I think that is close enough.

So, my Eternal punishment will be entertaining. Not entertaining as in people watch and laugh, but as in I have to throw parties. Kathleen said, "Mom, for a person who doesn't like to do this, you do a good job." It is just tiring for me. I have to have a clean house, and I always cook something that I have never made before. I just keep my fingers crossed and hope it turns out ok. Bob always has a few extra jobs to throw in also. This time, he brought more plants home to fill up some empty spots in the yard. Now he did help, but it's very funny. He said how his dad would be so proud of him for getting into gardening, and my response was "what, for standing over me watching me plant?" Anyway, the yard looks better than it has ever looked and I really do just want to show it off, so, we Entertain!!

I'm not sure how this actually fits any particular sin I may have committed (maybe pride in my yard, house, cooking skills, ), but it certainly is punishment. This past summer, I have had to host Youth Conference at the Huntsville house for our ward, get the Huntsville house ready for the Capitol Hill 2nd ward Youth Conference, have a housefull of family members over (that was actually not punishment -- it was a treat -- but still a lot of people); we hosted 12 Chinese clients, with translators, office staff, etc., had the Stake Mutual swimming party, and Bob's tennis group. I'm not sure I used all my commas and semicolons correctly, but I am sure you were able to follow the line of progression in my march toward the river Styx.

Give me room, lots of room.

When my sister Fran moved out of our parent's home, her room quickly became a sewing room. When it appeared that I was no longer going to move back to Seattle (i.e. a job, then husband, then baby), my room became an office, complete with drafting table, typewriter, etc. After sister Kathleen went off on a mission, and then moved to Phoenix (Mesa, Chandler), her room became storage/guest room. This is the natural order of things.

Times change. When Rachel moved away to college, she told me in no uncertain terms: "don't take over my room." She said this, while in the same breath she would say: "don't ask me, I don't live here." So as the big kids moved out, I strived (strove?) to keep their rooms in the same general condition that they left it in. Generally unmade beds and dirty clothes on the floor. Now they have their own places so I am pretty sure they really don't live here anymore except for an occasional holiday, or house sitting, or illness.

But now I only have one child at home, size-wise she doesn't take up much space. But to see all of her stuff spill over into the rest of the house, you would think that a half dozen very messy young children still live here. Kathleen has stuff in literally every room in the house. She does her homework in the dining room, at the kitchen, at the bar in the family room. She uses the upstairs bathroom for getting ready at the sink, but bathes and uses the other facilities down stairs. She sleeps in her room, or Rob's room if hers has to much stuff on the floor or the bed. If it is really hot, she sleeps in Sarah's or Rachel's room. Everybody's stuff is dropped on the kitchen counter, so I really can't say what is hers and what is Bob's. Often she is working at the computer in Bob's office. My sewing room is no longer my own, and when I come home from work, I find her sitting on my bed, watching the TV shows I recorded on my DVR.

I don't know what planets are out of alignment, but the whole natural order of things is upside down.