Controlled messiness, order, the cat and the commune

Since starting my own blog, I've gradually begun reading more and more blogs when time allows and I'm in awe of the way some people decorate, live and seem able to effectively juggle all that life has to offer. Lately in particular I'm drawn to the decorating aspect and how people get organized and work out of the home. I look for inspiration from places like this and this, and over here just to point out a few.

If you clicked on any of those links you'll see that my life, studio, degree of organization and knack for decorating is a far cry from theirs and generally looks something like this...

which I recently dubbed "controlled messiness". Thing is, I realize now that I'm one of those people who says, "sure, it looks messy, but I promise you, I know where every single little thing is". Luckily with the recent relocation of my work area, my mess is strictly relegated to this little area and not imposing on the house as a whole. At least that's how I justify it.

Miraculously, from the chaos comes extreme order that I pour into every piece of knitting or crochet I turn out. Here's the latest little goodie:


The booties to match are made, just haven't been photographed yet but they're some of the cutest yet I think.

As for the 13 year old cat, I was seriously worried she was a goner last night. She goes inside and out, all 6 1/2 pounds of her and occasionally will spend a night outside if I forget that she's out. Typically when it's cold I remember she's out because if she were inside she'd be all over our bed. Last night I couldn't find her. Anywhere. I kept going to the porch and flipping on the light throughout the evening which usually brings her up to the house to be let in. But she was nowhere to be seen. Finally at 10:30 I just decided she'd curled up in the barn somewhere which she'll do and was fine.

I got up early to take my walk with Sunny and she wasn't on the porch. So I looked for her body all around the property, on the road, etc. until I thought, maybe she's in the car. Sure enough, she'd spent the night in the van when one of the kids forgot to close the door and I did it remotely much later when I realized it was open. Whew. I hate that feeling.

And lastly, what would you do if your husband came to you and said he thought working for money was for the birds and thought we should just live off the land? I'm thinking it's a pre-forties midlife crisis which I'm not being very patient with. First I said I thought working and having an income was just a fact of life and that he needed to accept it and move on. And then I told him I thought the commune in the next county over would take him if he wanted to go. Be honest with me and tell me how insensive I'm being, please.