Before I die, I want to live a while in a clean, organized, beautiful home with my books and things either given awayto someone who needs them or the special few I use and enjoy and read still in my home, arranged and stored properly.

I know this sounds weird, but I grew up in a filthy, disorganized home, and I live in one now thanks to my husband who is a pack rat and doesn't know what clean means. I work full time and overtime to support us and our daughter; no time for niceties except to keep the worst of it swept, washed, put away.

But someday, somehow, somewhere, before I die, I'd like to live in an environment that suits me, not the slobs I live with. That's the promise I've made to myself.