Stamping Ground

This is my work table at some stage on saturday evening. It's now clean and completely empty and I'm enjoying the sight! You can't imagine how fast I moved to tidy the table top when we decided on saturday afternoon to use this little room as a 'bar'. I was a blur - motivated by terror. All those stories of horror and sacrifice you hear about when someone spills a drink at a crop or in a workshop. Agony. Now on Saturday afternoon my work table was covered in paper, dirty stamps, adhesives and general crafting detritus from Friday's fun. Work. Art. Me time. I dunno, call it what you will. The table was covered in stuff and I needed, not only to tidy it but to move the stuff into places of safety! I mean, it's one thing inviting people into your home for drink and food, it's another putting your cherished stash in a potential danger zone, huh? So I did what I should have done on Friday afternoon...put away, cleaned, put away some more, actually got the lid onto the box of scrap paper, put away some more, re-located the pile of little photos that are permanently on the table, waiting patiently for inclusion in a project that I'm not quite ready for (it's only been 18 months). I can't have help to do this task, everything must be done correctly - because my addled old brain won't stand a chance of remembering if I don't put it in the properly designated place - honestly I can spend days looking for something or other because I put it somewhere 'safe' instead of in the obvious, go-to place. Miss Dunnit sweetly suggested that we just sweep the lot into a storage box and stick it into the garage for the night. You see, in theory, this is a great idea. But in practice, it would take me days to get around to emptying or sorting through it. The box would become an extension of the table top and then if I couldn't find something in the first rummage, I'd probably replace it with stash from elsewhere and - well, you get the slovenly picture. So I tidied and was jolly glad I did. Nothing was spilt and my trusty table top will live to work another day. As we were sorting and cleaning yesterday (yes, we are those people that see our last guests out and then turn the lights off and go to bed - clearing up is for the next day), I remarked to Mr Dunnit how pleased I was that having tidied up so well in this little workroom, I had no complaints about using it as a bar because nothing was ruined, accidentally or drunkenly (and you can see the shot glasses in the picture, so I did have reason for my concern). Well, then he floored me. He didn't realise I was protecting my stash/territory, he thought I'd tidied up because I was ashamed of the mess! Ha. And there was I believing the man is still blinded by love.