There was a reassuring photo in the paper today, of a writer and filmmaker called Josh Freed sitting at his desk. He has made a documentary about clutter, which he approves of and lives in. For months now, I have been berating myself because my office is in what my mother would call “a tip” – stacks of papers hither and thither on the desk side, and stacks of clothing on the closet side (my office used to be my bedroom and houses my wardrobe as well as my papers.) But seeing Mr. Freed’s desk freed me, if I may make a pun, from guilt about messiness. In comparison with his, my clutter is the essence of order. It is pristine.
Though the weather continues sublime, I know it’s fall, because the garden is shutting down and suddenly there’s so much