Sam's basement. It's the coolest room in the house. Literally. It's also her sanctuary, so I let her have it to herself. Oh, I make suggestions from time to time, and if I have to get down there to get something out of the storage space, I typically make undisguised faces about the state of her room, which does absolutely nothing. I have no "before" pictures to share. It was just that bad.
But since she's been gone, I've had free reign. You can now see the top of her drawing table. All of her art supplies are organized and contained. Her jewelry box now houses jewelry which is wearable instead of its former ball of knots. All told, there were two big trash bags filled and removed of empty water bottles, wrappers, and general refuse. I will refrain from discussing the puzzling contents of her drawers, suffice to say, my daughter is a mystery. And she completely knew I was going to clean her room while she was gone and was happy about it, so don't start up with the suggestion that I'm invading her privacy. We aren't talking about reading her journals (which are now together in a single drawer and remain unread.) This is about finding kitchen appliances stowed away under 19 unmatched socks, two training bras that haven't been needed in 3 years, balled up notebook paper trash, and 14 assorted art supplies.
The finished project:
But the real triumph is the so-called "back room." This is the unfinished closet area that runs under the stairs and the laundry room on the main floor that usually looks like a tornado in the middle of a zombie apocalypse came through. You could barely open the door and there was not an inch of floor viewable. That gray concrete? That's a beautiful sight.
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