My glass doors are dappled with the nose prints of dogs and the floors are wafting in their hair. I told myself I was going to clean the house like I was being paid to do it today, but I don’t know where to start. Even the promise of cold hard cash is not enough of an incentive. I’d rather walk the dogs. I’d rather write about it.
My aunt told me recently that the secret to housework at this stage of life is simple, just lower your standards. Unfortunately my standards were not very high to begin with- lowering them could pose a health risk.
I used to pay a group of young women to come in a blitz the house every other week. They did a good job in a short amount of time for a reasonable price – but I felt I could do the job myself and let them go. Now, I probably could do the job, I’m just not. Good help, it seems, is hard to find, even at home.
Nobody’s going to care next Tuesday if my laundry hamper gets emptied today. My tombstone was never going to read that an immaculate housekeeper now finally lies at rest.
You can’t eat off of my kitchen floor – but who wants to? (other than the dogs whose evidence is the problem to start with). This penchant for cleanliness is overrated. It isn’t next to Godliness – it’s next to impossible. Tidiness, I can do (sometimes). Good-enoughness is my norm. If tails are wagging at the end of the day and sustenance has been provided, if clean underwear can be located and supper gets put on the table, it’s been a good day.
I’ve pulled the vacuum out of the closet and I’m already distracting myself. I can almost hear the dust bunnies celebrating in the corner (this is not their first near death experience – they’ve had close calls before). I think it’s possible that I started blogging to give myself a good excuse not to clean.
Part of me feels I might be being too honest about that. (And exactly when did ‘clean’ become a verb?) it doesn’t take much to distract me these days.
It now appears those nose prints will live to tell another tale – I won’t be making much money today. There’s always tomorrow.
Comments (2)
Those lovely nose prints!!
What can you mean? Cleanliness is not next to Godliness? Wash your mouth, as someone I used to know liked to suggest when I tossed the odd damn or bloody into my language. Absolutely delightful piece that strikes a chord, ma’am, and I thank you.