NAMING THE PROBLEM EASIER THAN SOLVING IT

Many things around my house are silently screaming, "Overload!" I think flashing red lights and warning bells would be less distracting than the silence of too many magazines overloading the rack and spilling with a soft thud onto the carpet, the enormous stack of notebooks on my desk that are beginning to obliterate light from a needed window, the number of potted plants that seem to multiply like clones when I'm not watching.

Some days I get up with beady-eyed determination and tackle one of the problems. I go about it scientifically, as I was once taught, naming the problem, determining the causes, listing the solutions.

The Problem: Too many pots of flowers.

The Cause: It is difficult for me to throw away any growing plant, especially a vine or plant that has done so wonderfully well in the summer as it was exposed to the outside air and my loving attention of watering, fertilizing and verbally, though softly, speaking my appreciation such as, "You li'tl, ole, red begonia. You's pretty, sittin' there on the porch shelf sunning yo'self. Leaves so shiny I can see myself in ya. Blossoms red as dogwood berries," or, "Hey you. Yes, you, Philodendron. You think you's the whole committee of the porch green leaf productions? How come you's growin' up in the clematis vine and tanglin' with your cousin, Arrowhead? You's jist like Topsy, ain't you? Well, excuse me, dear, while I give you a trimmin'. Hold still. Don't mean no harm."

The Solution: Repot the begonias and other pretties as I bring them in for the winter and put three plants in one pot where there was only one. This way I can take two pots out to the garage and hammer them to death. Well, not really death. I'll use these crushed pieces to put into the bottom of two or three new pots I'll have to buy next spring as I'll have to divide the over-crowded, over-wintered plants that obliterate light from other sunny windows this winter.

Now then, that's settled. Isn't it? Huh?

The Problem: Difficulty in throwing away magazines.

The Cause: The magazines contain too many good recipes, too many ideas for re-arranging furniture, too many stories and articles I haven't read but plan to some day before I get rid of them.

The Solution: Let some subscriptions expire? What! Do away with Capper's Weekly I've been taking for 150 years? Why, I used to stand at Mama's knee and listen while she read the continued stories to Grandma. Learned what plot was, did I. No, not that one. The Missouri Conservationist? No, no, no. Just as sure as I do I'd want to know something about where the wooly bears go after they've predicted winter weather, and right there it will be somewhere in the ceiling high (low upstairs ceiling) stack. Reminisce? Not on your life. They buy some of my reminisces. Better Homes and Gardens? No, no, no. Ozark Mountaineer? Naw.

Well then? Buy an extra little outside shed in which to put my stuff? Build a roadside stand in my front yard with a sign saying "Free Magazines?"

I'll keep thumbing through them. Maybe I'll find that someone else has the same affliction and has discovered a remedy.

Now, that's that. I think.

Problem: Over abundance of notebooks.

Cause: Tendency to make too many notations, fumble around with written words until a few of them, in juxtaposition, sound good, afraid I'll forget something important if I don't write it down in a spiral bound notebook so the pages won't fly away, express in written words why I am enjoying the present moment and find life to be good on any terms -- the cardinal going to roost under the metal awning, the snow coming softly in the night making the sunlit dawn a winter fairyland, the hum of the furnace, simmer of soup kettle, good magazines to read and red begonias sittin' there pretty-like on the window sill.

Solution? Cease to exist.

REJOICE!