My room is a wreck.  The laundry is piled high, like a cupcake topped high with swirling icing and sprinkles except, I'm afraid to say, its a cupcake nobody wants to eat.  It's a mite overwhelming.  The bed is a wad of sheets and blankets and the floor is covered with clean clothes waiting to be folded because, that's what I should be doing.  Folding laundry.  Instead, I'm typing and imaging that, who ever you are and wherever you've come from, you're getting ready to sit across from me on my double bed. 

My closet doors are open and there's a red skirt jumping out in color amongst the dark blue and brown and black.  I like the color red.  My grandma always told me I would - when I was younger and I'd refuse to wear it. 

There are two bags of seeds for flowers dormantly waiting to be planted.  Poppies and sweet peas, dandilions and violets make me happy.  I like to plant and weed.  Really.  But this year, at this time, I'm taking a sabbatical from gardening.  I'm already mourning the loss of my canned tomato juice. 

Two coordinating carpet bags sit high on a shelf awaiting trips to the temple for me and my husband.  They remind me it's time to go.   I have learned to love the temple.  It's a love that's come over time and attendance, and it continues to grow.  Those bags quietly share my devotion to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. 

My husband's clothing shares that closet with mine, just as we share life together.  Individual whole persons, yet together, with one purpose.  I love sharing life with him.  He claims its easy to love me.  God bless him.

Can't miss the big bucket o' multi-colored gumballs placed way up high and out of reach.  Gumballs make for rewards and happy smiling faces for my 6 children.  And this cheap variety is a rather hard gum which means it doesn't stick to anything - bonus for this mama.

There's a knotty pine cedar chest against one wall that holds my treasures.  My father had it custom made for me when I turned 16.  It is a floodgate for many, many memories.  As with any horizontal surface in my home, it's top has become a sorting station for miscellaneous items awaiting a proper placement which could take up to a year and beyond as long as they don't fall over or aren't concealing anything I'm in need of today.

And between here and there is more random clean laundry, a large mattress cover that didn't get put away the last time I folded laundry and is in need of a refolding, a pencil, two crayons, Dru's C&EN news magazine, his Crocs, my flip flops.

And if it doesn't seem too overly intimate for me to bring you into my room and let you see it this way, or, if you're able to see beyond its disorderly condition but are still careful to watch your step, or, maybe you find it good company to help me fold my laundry whilst we visit, then welcome, welcome to my blog.