Patches
I've been cleaning. In order to clean, I had to pick things up. In order to still have space to put feet, bags, even bodies, I had to put the things away. Sometimes opening the doors to away spaces is like opening Pandora's box. Sometimes, when I've been cleaning for more than a few minutes, particularly when it gets up to hours, I become particularly open to distraction.
So I now have a clean wardrobe. The slippers which broke irreparably more than three years ago are now in the rubbish. The broken sandals which happen to date back to my university years are also in the rubbish. The dust is now in the rubbish. The clothes are all on hangers.
I have washed and dried and folded a LOT of washing. I've gotten quite good at folding laundry this year, even if I say so myself. No longer do guests arrive only to be directed to a chair in the lounge as the couch is covered in clean, unfolded washing. There was a legitimate request from a voting age member of the household that visitors didn't have the opportunity to fold personal items.
There is a LOT less stuff in our bedroom, which is where our guests will sleep (if you've been put on the floor in our house, then I can only point out that the criteria for getting my bed is that you are 50 or over). In truth, these are patches of space in a still messy house. But somehow it will work out - it always does - and at least I have a lovely and organised wardrobe for the first time since 2006.
There is beer and wine and fireworks and sausages and barbecue fuel in the house. Shame about the ten day forecast which is solid grey clouds and rain, but that won't get in the way of enjoying the booze.
Should the indelicate details of my day attempting to run a household not prove sufficient procrastination, here are some much better places to hang out: The universal aunts - I love the old pictures. Clearly targeted at a particular class in terms of both clients and workers, but a great little procrastinate all the same. Then the worldometers, which are a fascinating (and depressing) series of live trackers relating to population, world resources, health and other topics.
So I now have a clean wardrobe. The slippers which broke irreparably more than three years ago are now in the rubbish. The broken sandals which happen to date back to my university years are also in the rubbish. The dust is now in the rubbish. The clothes are all on hangers.
I have washed and dried and folded a LOT of washing. I've gotten quite good at folding laundry this year, even if I say so myself. No longer do guests arrive only to be directed to a chair in the lounge as the couch is covered in clean, unfolded washing. There was a legitimate request from a voting age member of the household that visitors didn't have the opportunity to fold personal items.
There is a LOT less stuff in our bedroom, which is where our guests will sleep (if you've been put on the floor in our house, then I can only point out that the criteria for getting my bed is that you are 50 or over). In truth, these are patches of space in a still messy house. But somehow it will work out - it always does - and at least I have a lovely and organised wardrobe for the first time since 2006.
There is beer and wine and fireworks and sausages and barbecue fuel in the house. Shame about the ten day forecast which is solid grey clouds and rain, but that won't get in the way of enjoying the booze.
Should the indelicate details of my day attempting to run a household not prove sufficient procrastination, here are some much better places to hang out: The universal aunts - I love the old pictures. Clearly targeted at a particular class in terms of both clients and workers, but a great little procrastinate all the same. Then the worldometers, which are a fascinating (and depressing) series of live trackers relating to population, world resources, health and other topics.
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