Sometimes, it is best to jump in with both feet — and the rest of your body, too. This might apply to getting into a cold pool, something not to be found around these parts in the summer, but my thoughts are going in other directions.

When the last bell rang this past May, I headed out of the school building feeling much like one of the students. One difference. In my mind circled a list of jobs to complete in two months. These jobs included those I had let go at home during the second semester. Between sports with my boys and teaching, time is short from January to May.

This year, we started off the break a little differently. We failed to get reservations in time to camp so we decided to take a short vacation early rather than later in the summer. We left an hour or so after I arrived home on the last day of school. Those next four days were very relaxing and fun. Our usual group, the boys, Blake, Mother and myself, enjoyed the scenery, shopped a little, reminisced about other trips, and snacked a lot. It was the perfect beginning.

Returning home, I did the routine cleaning, but found myself ignoring the overwhelming clutter I needed to tackle. Finally, I jumped in my closet first and emptied out almost everything I do not wear regularly. I coaxed the rest of the family into doing the same. That wasn’t too bad.

Next, I hit low gear — a little here, a little there. The washing I discovered was accumulating faster than it had during the school year thanks to the extreme temperatures, practices and play. My laundry room resembled a dig store with a few odd items thrown in because they fit nowhere else. Blake and the boys came to my rescue and helped fold as I dug out, put away and cleaned.

The kitchen bar has been an ongoing project that some days I feel like I am winning and others I feel like defeat is inevitable. Everybody’s dump-your-pockets area accumulates new items daily. Many times the bar has been cleared by hauling items to my dining room and foyer to be dealt with later.

Yikes! I finally mentioned the most dreaded rooms of all. My eyes often avoid the table in the cranberry red room that is open from my kitchen. The big oak desk was piled with paper including bills, books, drawings and magazines from various folks in the house. The job was overwhelming, but I knew what I had to do — commit to the task.

Last week I finally did. One morning I cleared the table and began a garbage bag. The next day I started on the desk. I trashed, filed and created files. I determined what desk accessories I did not need and promised myself to work hard on keeping this site more usable. My co-workers and students are laughing who know my personality lends itself to piling not filing. Little by little I am improving.

Maybe by the time I am considered “wise,” I will also be considered an organizer.

In the foyer, bookshelves I once thought would be handy have begun to annoy me. They are filled with books that need to be boxed. A desk which has no other home sits against a wall and catches other books. Next to it, a  tablecloth covers a stack of something (I have forgotten what). I think that means I can throw that pile away. I plan on jumping into that jungle next.

So far, we have participated in a yard sale A load has been taken to Salvation Army and a few things to Goodwill. A bag has been stored for hand-me-downs, and any day now I am expecting an excessive use bill from the garbage collectors or a notice we have exceeded our limit for the year. My husband can’t comprehend how so many bags appear while he is away for eight hours. One or two is added if he works over.

It’s time to come clean. I have never been one to dive or even jump into cold water. I step in one foot at a time, torturing myself. This is how I tackle the jobs alone, too: one stack at a time. Over and over. However, I have to remind myself to stay put and not leave the room to do another task that comes mind. It’s like reminding myself I will be happy when I get use to the water and swimming. Deterring, I do allow time to stop and smile at the pictures I find and to revisit yesteryear.

I recall once hearing someone tell me if they begin a job, they don’t go to bed until it’s finished. Not me. I can knock out a good bit, but once the progress begins to slow and focus is lost, I stop to do something else while I renew my commitment. This usually gets me going and gives me time to consider the best way to proceed. Whether 30 minutes later or two days later, I do return and the job is completed.

Will I complete my entire mental list this summer? Certainly not. For as long as I can remember, this list has acted like a flower that multiplies when deadheaded — one bloom turned eyesore is plucked and two buds replace it to restart the cycle. That’s the circle of life’s “To Do” lists. Maybe I’ll take a running go and jump more often, but when treasures and memories are involved I think I’ll still take one step at a time.

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Sherry Dailey Shawl is special columnist for the Daily Corinthian and a schoolteacher at Biggersville High School.