You know what’s even better than working from home?  Being informed that the powers-that-be want you to charge eight hours but only work five.  I never ever ever want to go to an actual office again, I’m so spoiled now.

Today’s early quitting time could not be a nicer gift.  Since Scott and I grew up in this part of Virginia, we anxiously await stealing time with all of our far-flung friends who decide to come home and visit their folks over Thanksgiving.  Which means that I start thinking about possible guests and what they may want.  Which means I start obsessing about the house and cooking.  I know that none of our friends or relatives will perform any white-glove tests in our home, or demand a specific food, but taking care of this huge, valuable present Scott and I bought each other seven years ago is never a bad idea, and I use welcoming  people I love as an excuse.

I also try to use some of that manic energy to improve parts of the house that only matter to me, since I’m here far more than any of our friends or family.  To that end, I decided that the closet in my studio needed an overhaul.  It’s a crappy closet, as most closets built into knee-walls are.  I tore every single thing out of it, banished old shoes and clothes, donated bags and bags of clothing and shoes Scott and I don’t need anymore, and re-purposed some old shoe shelving to hold spinning supplies.

For the first time, this frustrating closet, with the worst hanging system in the world, a small door that offers poor access to the sloping right side, and a puny shelf above is actually working the way I want it to.

The ironing board is accessible, the only things hanging on the nearly-useless j-bar are a few garments I need to mend or iron, and my spinning and felting fibers are all laid out on labeled (labeled!) shelves.  In the section hiding to the right are whole fleeces waiting for processing.  Now, I just need a working doorknob to protect all that fiber from a wool-stealing cat.

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