Clutterflies

I sit down at the table to eat my morning bagel and have to push aside the pile of mail that Fred hasn't gone through yet. I go upstairs to change clothes and trip over the basket of clean laundry that I'd meant to put away the last time I was up there. I search fruitlessly through the layers of customs forms, soldier letters, greeting cards, and address labels that is the top of my desk, not finding the tiny piece of paper I'm looking for.
Clutter. How does an innocent little stack of magazines suddenly obscure the coffee table and swallow the remote? Why is the chair in the bedroom only sat in by cast-off clothes and a cat or two? I guess I do know why, but it means admitting to a smidgeon of laziness. I thought the situation would improve once the girls moved out, but it hasn't much. Guess what?! Fred and I are "clutterflies", too. He takes a tape measure out of the junk drawer to measure something and then leaves it sitting on the entryway table. He might need it again in a week or six months, right? Why put those black shoes by the front door back in the closet when I know I'll eventually have to go to another funeral? I gradually make a little pile of stuff on the stairway to take up on my next trip--which I repeatedly forget to do. I've always wanted one of those step baskets, and now would be a great time to get one as my CRS (Can't Remember S***) worsens.
The recyclables need to go down to the basement, the computer desk is covered with paid bills that need to be filed, the guest bed is covered with pictures and other stuff I've used for my blogs. Hey, I'm an artiste! When the creative muse is upon me, do I have time to put everything back where it came from?!
Besides the laziness factor, clutter tends to develop when it's an especially busy week of being in and out of the house. A two-day trip to Elk Mound, a weekend at the cabin--not enough time in between to sort the mail and clear off the counter--just to add to what's already there.
There are people who actually get paid to declutter other people's homes. What a racket! There is a simple solution to clutter, duh: a place for everything and everything in its place. Until we take the time to faithfully practice that axiom, no amount of education from an "expert" will make a long-term difference.
I'm really going to try to be better about putting things away. Maybe I'll write a greeting card about it: "Live with a cluttered house no more. Throw it all in the closet and shut the door."
In the meantime, please don't drop in unexpectedly. And remember, a little clutter never hurt anybody--unless Fred trips over my growing pile on the stairs!