Today I will lose a complaint. I’ve long preached how I’m not a goddess in the cleaning department, a tag that has stuck like poop to a woolen rag. Ask the people who have dropped by the house while I hide upstairs, afraid to open the door on my secret, who undoubtedly peeked in the window and couldn’t believe their eyes! Oy vey, the shame I’ve born over the years for being domestically inadequate. But no more.....
Ironically, it’s not that I’m incapable of cleaning my own house. Quite frankly, I could easily leave the rug hooking business and trade up to a cleaning one and be very successful. I say trade up because I think there’s more money in cleaning services than selling wool. I see the local company around these parts with their fleet of cars and so booked you can’t get them for a month of Tuesdays so I’ll assume someone is laughing all the way to the bank. I’d really love to laugh too, but my little craft business is more like a giggle, a short little snort, guffaw, chortle, titter, chuckle, a hoot.
Ironically, it’s not that I’m incapable of cleaning my own house. Quite frankly, I could easily leave the rug hooking business and trade up to a cleaning one and be very successful. I say trade up because I think there’s more money in cleaning services than selling wool. I see the local company around these parts with their fleet of cars and so booked you can’t get them for a month of Tuesdays so I’ll assume someone is laughing all the way to the bank. I’d really love to laugh too, but my little craft business is more like a giggle, a short little snort, guffaw, chortle, titter, chuckle, a hoot.
I can clean with the best of them, leaving no stone unturned, I only choose not to. I run a business, have four pups, I run our life in my hubby’s absence and short of cooking I do very little in the evenings except put my feet up, write a bit or hook. I’m burned out at the end of the day and the thought of cleaning is the last thing on my mind, truthfully it doesn’t even register, so I play Russian roulette with the place, worry that someone might come over but do nothing about it and take my chances. That worry does equate to stress though, so I am looking forward to removing that offender from my plate.
Now, I’m going to be able to live the princess life I’ve always envisioned. Larry is turning out to be a dream cleaning man. I went upstairs and he was in my bedroom and had the bureau stripped bare of all the things that sit on it, the lamp, my jewelry box and a damask runner and the large piece of furniture was pulled out from the wall. The cobwebs matted between the back of the bureau and the wall were enough to resist his tug. He looked at me and said “How thorough do you want me to be?” and I knew right then and there he was right for me....well, for the house. “Thorough is gread” I said with a big smile you could see for a mile.
So now the identity and excuse that I am a slob will no longer apply. People can drop by and stay for tea, coffee or a glass of wine and I’ll be relaxed and happy to see you, as long as I’m not caught without makeup, I might still have to hide in the bathroom over that....
When my house is in order, I tend to be more diligent and pick up after myself. I like things clean and sparkly and once in that state, I do my best to retain it. But as things slide, I lose the desire to keep up appearances, the dishes sit, and the clothes pile up into little domes that the dogs make beds out of. Now I’ll keep the laundry done and the burners cleaned. All I needed was a little help to start me in the right direction and stay the course. I am guided by pride and although that usually goeth before the fall, in my case it’s a help not a hindrance. Even though I don’t know Larry from a hole in the ground, I would be embarrassed for him to see how bad the mess can be so I will keep things in check so every two weeks he can come by to keep my house in a state of bliss.
I’ve been working on the place for a week, but it was a topical, not a deep clean. Last night I vacuumed the ceilings, using a flashlight in my right hand to spot the webs and the telescopic vacuum wand in my left to suck them off the beams. I’ve been picking things up and hoofing them out to the garage, doing laundry, oh the piles of laundry, and putting things in their proper places. I explained to Larry that no serious cleaning has been done as far back as January and I’m sure by now he believes me, but even his coming every two weeks will help me to pick up after myself, his arriving will be the check and balance to keep me in line. Before the stolen rings caper by one of the previous cleaning people, my house always looked company ready because I worked at keeping up appearances. If surfaces were cluttered they only dusted around them, not a thorough clean. Doing a bit every day, a few minutes here and there will ensure it is uncluttered for Larry to come and do his magic. So I’ll get back into a routine, I’m sure my beautiful house will appreciate not being neglected. Imagine being ready for Christmas this year and not have to clean for a week to celebrate it! Yippee!!!
Now I’m so fired up I’ve taken out the burners on the stove to clean and I’m viewing the tarnish on my silver tea set with contempt. Besides, it’s difficult having someone in the house cleaning while I sit on my fanny. I need to jump on the band wagon too; after all, I’m not the Queen of England!
I’ve never been the pick-up kind of gal. Once something is put down on a surface I tend to forget about it and that now becomes the permanent home. I’m like that with clothes on the floor. If my mother were alive today she could tell you horror stories. I probably helped her to an early grave being the one frustrating kid to deal with. She was the polar opposite of this progeny, a white tornado force to be reckoned with. I never picked up a thing and my bedroom was a break neck proposition if entering the room. She would close the door and shake her head, possibly wondering if the right kid came home from the hospital. It would go on until she almost lost her mind and then she’d lay down the law. I was too much in my head to worry about tidiness. I was pretending and dreaming about fairies, princesses and solving mysteries alongside Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys; more important realities than cleanliness. Luckily, it skipped a generation because Shane has an almost OCD need for tidy.
Aw well, I is what I is. There was a TV show that says I’m a genius so I’m sticking with that. I’ll bet dollars for donuts that once I’m gone to the big wool store in the sky, not one person will comment on my messy house, surely they’ll speak of greater accomplishments, the rugs I’ve hooked and the patterns I designed. Hopefully, no one is measured by how neat their house is, that would be sad....
Now, I’m going to be able to live the princess life I’ve always envisioned. Larry is turning out to be a dream cleaning man. I went upstairs and he was in my bedroom and had the bureau stripped bare of all the things that sit on it, the lamp, my jewelry box and a damask runner and the large piece of furniture was pulled out from the wall. The cobwebs matted between the back of the bureau and the wall were enough to resist his tug. He looked at me and said “How thorough do you want me to be?” and I knew right then and there he was right for me....well, for the house. “Thorough is gread” I said with a big smile you could see for a mile.
So now the identity and excuse that I am a slob will no longer apply. People can drop by and stay for tea, coffee or a glass of wine and I’ll be relaxed and happy to see you, as long as I’m not caught without makeup, I might still have to hide in the bathroom over that....
When my house is in order, I tend to be more diligent and pick up after myself. I like things clean and sparkly and once in that state, I do my best to retain it. But as things slide, I lose the desire to keep up appearances, the dishes sit, and the clothes pile up into little domes that the dogs make beds out of. Now I’ll keep the laundry done and the burners cleaned. All I needed was a little help to start me in the right direction and stay the course. I am guided by pride and although that usually goeth before the fall, in my case it’s a help not a hindrance. Even though I don’t know Larry from a hole in the ground, I would be embarrassed for him to see how bad the mess can be so I will keep things in check so every two weeks he can come by to keep my house in a state of bliss.
I’ve been working on the place for a week, but it was a topical, not a deep clean. Last night I vacuumed the ceilings, using a flashlight in my right hand to spot the webs and the telescopic vacuum wand in my left to suck them off the beams. I’ve been picking things up and hoofing them out to the garage, doing laundry, oh the piles of laundry, and putting things in their proper places. I explained to Larry that no serious cleaning has been done as far back as January and I’m sure by now he believes me, but even his coming every two weeks will help me to pick up after myself, his arriving will be the check and balance to keep me in line. Before the stolen rings caper by one of the previous cleaning people, my house always looked company ready because I worked at keeping up appearances. If surfaces were cluttered they only dusted around them, not a thorough clean. Doing a bit every day, a few minutes here and there will ensure it is uncluttered for Larry to come and do his magic. So I’ll get back into a routine, I’m sure my beautiful house will appreciate not being neglected. Imagine being ready for Christmas this year and not have to clean for a week to celebrate it! Yippee!!!
Now I’m so fired up I’ve taken out the burners on the stove to clean and I’m viewing the tarnish on my silver tea set with contempt. Besides, it’s difficult having someone in the house cleaning while I sit on my fanny. I need to jump on the band wagon too; after all, I’m not the Queen of England!
I’ve never been the pick-up kind of gal. Once something is put down on a surface I tend to forget about it and that now becomes the permanent home. I’m like that with clothes on the floor. If my mother were alive today she could tell you horror stories. I probably helped her to an early grave being the one frustrating kid to deal with. She was the polar opposite of this progeny, a white tornado force to be reckoned with. I never picked up a thing and my bedroom was a break neck proposition if entering the room. She would close the door and shake her head, possibly wondering if the right kid came home from the hospital. It would go on until she almost lost her mind and then she’d lay down the law. I was too much in my head to worry about tidiness. I was pretending and dreaming about fairies, princesses and solving mysteries alongside Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys; more important realities than cleanliness. Luckily, it skipped a generation because Shane has an almost OCD need for tidy.
Aw well, I is what I is. There was a TV show that says I’m a genius so I’m sticking with that. I’ll bet dollars for donuts that once I’m gone to the big wool store in the sky, not one person will comment on my messy house, surely they’ll speak of greater accomplishments, the rugs I’ve hooked and the patterns I designed. Hopefully, no one is measured by how neat their house is, that would be sad....
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