I have a friend, several friends actually, whose houses always look the same. Always ready for company, polished, arranged, composed. Their houses are monuments.
Well, that's not me, my friends, and I've decided to make peace with it. Revel in it, even. I like a clean house, sure. And I think my house usually is pretty clean. And I loath clutter. So I beat back an excess of stuff with all my will. But, I've decided, a house is not a monument. It's a living, changing environment. An organism, almost. A place where things happen, where life is lived.