Every now and then I wake up and feel…fine.

No complaints.

Quite satisfactory.  (To some Brits that means “deliriously wonderful” but I do mean “quite satisfactory.”)

This naturally involves waking up to  daylight.  (It is never fine to wake up at 5:30 a.m.) And it may coincide with not having to hurry up to be anywhere. (Like work.) It helps to have an absence of family drama like births, deaths, and changes in marital status.  Maybe it’s the 5000 units of Vitamin D the doctor has me taking.  Maybe it’s the cortisone shot to the knee.  Whatever.  It is fine to not feel any particular body part announcing a new breakdown.

I feel fine.

On such a fine day…9 degrees with a wind chill of a gazillion… I am not plagued by “shoulds” and “musts” and “have-to’s.”   It’s just a day.

A fine day.

To clean out cupboards.

Sometimes you just need to clean the cupboards. I’m not being metaphorical or talking about massive decluttering and redoing a closet with a cool idea gleaned from Pinterest. I’m just talking about a fine day with nothing on the agenda but taking things out of cupboards, wiping them down, and putting everything back in.

A fine old ordinary day to do ordinary things.

I’m not even doing it in a panic over the possibility of my mother seeing my household organizational disaster. Well, ok, there was a certain level of “no one must ever see this!” when I discovered evidence of mice in the powder room cabinet.  And, yes, that’s why I tackled the cupboards, but it’s not why I keep on doing more cupboards.

I am enjoying it.

Oh my gosh, I am still turning into my mother.  Not my young mother who exclaimed, “Eat it or wear it!” to a her tableful of children.  Not my older mother who berated her teenagers, “How can you live like this?” as dust bunnies rolled like tumbleweeds down the stairs. No, this is my older mother, who has her advance directive hanging on the fridge “just in case” paramedics might need to find it.

Oh, it’s ok.   Not deliriously wonderful, but it’s fine.  Really.  Quite satisfactory.

No complaints.

But enough of this.  My shoe closet is calling me.  It’s a fine day for organizing.