A yellow No. 2 pencil and a crumpled pink notepad —  Corral disorder into a list – groom dogs,  wash dishes,  read Moll Flanders.  Mow, sweep, mop, weep.  Use Philips head screwdriver on monthly budget:  twist utility costs into level billing: predictability comforts.  Strings strung into a line of ability – unaided walking, self-reliance of scrubbing the toilet, cleaning the refrigerator, poop scooping the yard.  Wrap that string round and round to disguise dotage of vision with gratitude for audioboooks. Camouflage the thready core of uncertainty with physical therapy,  Gabapentin, ice packs, traction, Ultra Strength Tiger Balm on the right shoulder. A jungle of twist ties clutters contents, hides items I need – corkscrew, can opener, tape measure,  my confidence caught in the tangle.  That messy rainbow of wire must go —  worries tossed into black plastic garbage bags and hauled to psychic dumpsters. I discover a bundle of red, yellow and blue cable ties: attach tomato vines to the fence,  bird feeder to its pole, a blue tarp on the woodpile.    Espalier mulberry branches,  divide frustrations into stems:  wrestle Zoom links,  mow lawn, weed garden, trundle trash to the curb.   

Be wary of zip ties cuffing wrists to indecision.