Last week I mentioned looking for some motivation. Well, it came yesterday. It wasn’t a glorious light shining in my window, or a jazzy song giving me rhythm. It was a flood.
Drizzling rain was all that remained of the crashing storm the night before. While making waffles, the power snapped off. Then I glanced in the garage. Water flowed freely. I froze. My husband ran. His yell awakened me, “Call [our neighbor] to help me sandbag!” Bug shouted, “Mom, it’s coming into the house! Get a towel.” “A towel isn’t going to help,” I replied flatly. And it didn’t. Within minutes our moat/entryway was full.
I sloshed around moving the computer, baskets, and National Geographic magazines out of the shallow pond. Bug sprang out to help his dad, and Sunshine and Sweet Pea grabbed the laundry basket. Their boat sank, so they splashed and squealed.
Anxiety invigorated me. We battled the elements to save our house. The whole family worked together. The little girls watched with wide eyes and cheered us on. We filled plastic bags with dirt. Then the hole from my husband’s effort began to divert the water. He pawed out a trench. The river flowed in its new course. We swept water and opened all the doors. The breeze blew and motivation was thrust upon me.
Cleaning the garage has been on the to-do list for months. The piles overwhelmed me: stuff to give away, broken stuff, memorabilia stuff, homeschool stuff, crafty stuff, tool stuff, and lots of garbage. Since I didn’t know where to start, I didn’t. Now the garage is almost clean. The doors of the storage cupboards shut. The laundry area is neat. The homeschool supplies are easy to locate. And there is lots of room for a pottery studio. I’ll be working in the midst of the lawnmower and dirty towels, but I’ll be working.