It's more than just keeping the house clean: that's just the template for doing what you want to do without being hindered by dirt and clutter. It's keeping things, and bringing them out at the right time, like these lovely calendars made in different years by my sons. The soul of the librarian is part archivist. I once was visited by an acquaintance who commented on all the papers on my desk (which was at the time situated in my dining room). I asked him what he did with his papers. He said simply, "I don't have any!" Now I use a computer, too, but my life is not paperless, nor do I wish it to be. Paper is history.
Yesterday while raking my yard I found fragments of a handwritten letter. These fragments are fascinating, as you have to infer a story from only a part. Hints of drama, like "AA" and "he refuses to" and "don't know if my life" and the like. Someone once collected such shards of lives and wrote about it in the NY Times.. Someone else has a website for tiny things -- maybe it's Squirl. I'll find out. I'd like to add my Scarlet Tanager head to such a site. The skull is covered with still-red feathers, and there's a small beak. Once I peeled back part of the skin to see the little translucent skull, but the skin and feathers still cling. It's from the maritime forest at Hunting Island, SC.
Of course, there's the necessary but less inviting financial layer to housekeeping, and I need to get back to Google spreadsheets and my taxes.