Don’t think this is going to be a post on how I have the best system for organizing drawer. Because I don’t.
I recently read Denisse Schoefield’s Confessions of an Organized Homemaker. It was all right– this isn’t going to be a review of it, sorry. But my thoughts on it, quickly, were that I could use more planning in the way I run my home. And realistically, what would make my life easier would be less stuff. She has lots more to say– maybe you’ll want to read it. Recently Jessica posted on Margaret Kim Peterson’s book Keeping House: The Litany of Everyday Life, which I think is the book I ought to have read. Maybe I will.
Anyway, what I took away from Schoefield’s book was that my kitchen drawers were holding me back. I spend time every day– multiple times a day– fishing through my "kitchen utensils" drawer to find the teaspoon, because it’s come apart from its other little nesting spoons, and the drawer is all full of tongs and ice cream scoops and cookie cutters…
She says that if you use the teaspoon every day, that THAT should be easy to find. And if you only use the cookie cutters once a month, then they can go on a high shelf or different drawer… Duh.
So last week, I spent a little time well, a couple hours, actually) reorganizing some kitchen drawers.
What is now the napkin drawer is right next to the kitchen table. It used to hold sippy cup lids, medicine measuring spoons, chopsticks (I could only find one), doodads and other sundries. Oh, and the straws, and the wrappers M took off them and left in the drawer.
My silverware drawer (next to the napkin drawer) now holds much less silverware than it did previously. Since we only seldom use the ice tea spoons and the steak knives and the ten thousand pieces of extra flatware my grandma left me, those went on the top shelf. Away.
The kitchen untensil drawer became two drawers– one with things I use commonly, the other for things that we ue seldom: corn-on-the-cob twirlers and dinosaur-pancake-molds, etc. The extra drawer appeared when I reunited all the "tupperware" (think of that word in the sense of "kleenex") with its lids, since I spend time every day fishing for the right lid, which is invariably missing.
We’ll see. I don’t think this will change my life (not like a good haircut might), but it might save me a few minutes several times a day. And it makes me happy every time I open them, which is something.