Demessed

At last.  Done as it will ever be, and much improved, I think.  It took only two trips to the Dollar Tree for small containers to wrangle those little bits of beads.  I actually wiped down a couple of shelves -- can't tell you what it was that got wiped up.   Some mysterious sticky stuff once used to alter something, with 5 years of dust encrusted.  Eewwww.  The floor has been swept.  The lap top has returned to its place after taking asylum on the dining table downstairs.  In a space like this, storage means stacking, and making means disturbing the stacks, alas.  I think The Mess is a cycle, like the Sanskrit kalpas, a unit of time encompassing birth, growth, and ultimately, destruction, in this case, full ripening of The Mess that Prevents Thought.  'Think I'll just sit here and think for awhile.