After twenty-three years of tracking my family history, I despair of the sheer volume of stuff that I have accumulated.
It's all necessary; fragments and clues in the great detective story that is genealogy. But it's also scattered in various places around my house.
There was no choice in the matter. It's all too bulky to fit in one area. Until I win the lottery and buy a stately home, I can't imagine being able to create my own archive room. A girl can dream though!
An unwelcome consequence of this is that disorganization does creep in. It's probably sheer laziness, but it's definitely also space. A certificate pertaining to a paternal ancestor from two hundred years ago might nestle alongside a note about my mother's second cousin. It happens.
What I wish is that two decades ago, I had thought to decorate family tree folders to maintain them all in order. I didn't have that idea, nor have I the artistic talent to produce them, but other people have done just that.