girls in my office

It gets dark so early this time of year. After the ubiquitous “they” take away Daylight Savings Time, it’s dark by 4:30. Dawn is late too as the days shorten. I don’t understand the time change. I don’t see a purpose. Pick a time. Stay with it. I prefer DST because 5 o’clock is much too early for night. Makes us feel like mole people.

My office is dark much of the time anyway. It faces northwest, so it’s dark in the morning, bright for a few  afternoon hours, then dark again. Even in summertime, it’s shadowy.  I like it that way. Using a big monitor is difficult in sunlight. Too much reflection, eyestrain city. My world, my office — junk,  cameras, dolls, books, pens, papers and software — is dim and dusty. Full of lounging dogs hanging around in case I need to pet someone. Or just happen to drop a piece of food. Ever ready they are to make sure nothing edible escapes notice.

Garry’s office is next door. Brighter. He has two windows and the room is bigger — but there’s more in it. Huge bookcases and the futon for guests we never seem to have any more. Messy, like mine, though less of a paper storm. I do the bills, so a lot of rubble lands on my desk. Good it’s such a big desk.

Our offices are the most personal spaces in the house. Garry’s office is his turf. Occasionally we have a guest or two, then he has to clear the futon. But it’s rare. Still, having the bed there is important. I need to know we can welcome friends, that we have a special space for them. The welcome mat is still there, if infrequently used.

It’s a small world getting smaller with each added paper, camera, book and whatnot. Oddly, I don’t mind. It fits us. Eventually I’ll reorganize, put things in different places so it will seem less crowded, but really it’s life surrounding us. Papers you never need until you really need them. Papers you have to keep but don’t know why. Books you can’t bear to be without though you’ll never read them again.

We are surrounded by our memories. The lives we’ve lived, people we’ve known, places we’ve seen, work we’ve done. Photos and paintings and all the stuff over in the corner. I’m not sure what it is. It’s buried.

I’ll get to it. No, really. I will. Just not today.

Garry in his office

Categories: Dolls, Personal, Photography

Tags: , , , , , , ,

8 replies

  1. That picture of Garry at his desk made me laugh out loud, literally. I prefer cleared off and streamlined. I’m always filing away this or that, moving something to a drawer, giving a “home” some clutter that is out of the way. Yes, life is surrounding us and sometimes it piles up. I like that, just preferring personally to not let it pile up in my sight path.


    • I was — in earlier years — very neat. As the years have progressed, I discovered I don’t as long as I can find what I am looking for. Garry has always favored a horizontal filing system — everything out on some surface or other. Why? I don’t know. The rest of the house is VERY neat. Just our offices are messy. I’m sure that’s telling, but what?


  2. Someone is beginning to look like Don King.


  3. Garry’s desk looks a lot like mine, but his is neater. I usually have a cat on mine. Before we had flat screen monitors there was almost always a cat sleeping on top of the big TV looking monitor, usually the cat with long fur, so that when she uncurled up there the tail would end up magnetically attracted to the screen, and stick there.

    My theory about messy like this is, it’s not purposeless, its an image of what’s going on in our brains. We have better things to do than “organinze” what’s already in use.

    I must say the dolls on that shelf are a bit creepy; probably because they’re lit from one side, and they sort of loom…( really like the one on the end with the glasses. that girl’s got attitude)


    • They don’t really loom, my girls. It’s a bit of distortion from the wide angle lens that gives the effect — and the really bad lighting. I’ve been wanting a new floor lamp, but they are so expensive. That’s an el cheapo model from Walmart (where else?). In person, it really is just old plastic dolls from the 1960s retired to the shelves in my office.

      The girl does have attitude. I had the outfit made for her then found the sunglasses to complete “the look.” I may be old, but I sitll play with dolls.


      • I have Legos. A lot of Legos. When I was a kid my mother, who had been doll-deprived as a child, used to give me a doll every christmas and then spend the rest of the year making these amazingly detailed dresses and outfits, all by hand. I, in the meantime, was building cars out of the erector set to scare the dog. =)


        • You and my son. He was the Lego king. He built worlds out of Lego. For me, a lego was a torture device that really hurt when you got one in the arch of your bare foot! I have dolls and so, because of me, has my granddaughter. My son doesn’t have the Legos now … I wonder where they went?


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