Homekeeping
Today will be a write-y write-y day. I have a new assignment from the Real Moms Speak editor, with a deadline for tomorrow. Meanwhile, The Child and I have some editorial work to do on her otherwise very well done book reports so that she can print them up, tuck them into her fresh new homework folder and spend the next two weeks just hanging until school starts.
Today will also be a clean-y clean-y day. In the summer months I’m not hyper conscientious about things like sweeping and dusting. People drag grass and sand and what-have-you into the house all the time and it just doesn’t seem important to stay on top of it. More will be coming tomorrow and besides, we spend most of our time outdoors anyway so who’ll notice? But despite my efforts to ignore it, fall is in the air. The mornings are cool and there is that thing, that snap at the back of the breeze, even on hot afternoons, that signals we’re tilting away from the sun after all. There’s still a wisp of summer left but the move back indoors is upon us. And that makes me more diligent about attending to smudges and dusty molding and even, Heaven forefend, mopping.
The sick and twisted thing about this is that I really love cleaning my house. I don’t necessarily love every little bit of it (scrubbing the bathtub springs to mind) but I love the results. I love the peace and order of clean counters, wine glasses twinkling on a shelf, being able to see the ebony black shine of the piano when it is free of dust. I love to walk into the house and see the dining room table with a fresh cloth, a bowl of flowers, the candle sticks and nothing else; no stacks of mail, no pairs of shoes left up high out of The Dog’s reach. I enjoy looking out a window free of dog nose smudges and handprints.
I’m not obsessive. You will likely always find sticky spots and dust bunnies and you won’t have to look hard to find them. You cannot, I repeat, you cannot eat off of my floor. There is a definite line between the pristine look of a house that suggests no one is actually allowed to live here and the acknowledgement that life is, in fact, lived and sometimes messy. Very messy. I think I negotiate that line pretty well. My house doesn’t have to look as if it is about to be photographed for House and Garden. I simply take a lot of pleasure in having it look inviting and peaceful. I keep the jangle of clutter off the coffee table so that you have room to put up your feet. Coffee?
Today will also be a clean-y clean-y day. In the summer months I’m not hyper conscientious about things like sweeping and dusting. People drag grass and sand and what-have-you into the house all the time and it just doesn’t seem important to stay on top of it. More will be coming tomorrow and besides, we spend most of our time outdoors anyway so who’ll notice? But despite my efforts to ignore it, fall is in the air. The mornings are cool and there is that thing, that snap at the back of the breeze, even on hot afternoons, that signals we’re tilting away from the sun after all. There’s still a wisp of summer left but the move back indoors is upon us. And that makes me more diligent about attending to smudges and dusty molding and even, Heaven forefend, mopping.
The sick and twisted thing about this is that I really love cleaning my house. I don’t necessarily love every little bit of it (scrubbing the bathtub springs to mind) but I love the results. I love the peace and order of clean counters, wine glasses twinkling on a shelf, being able to see the ebony black shine of the piano when it is free of dust. I love to walk into the house and see the dining room table with a fresh cloth, a bowl of flowers, the candle sticks and nothing else; no stacks of mail, no pairs of shoes left up high out of The Dog’s reach. I enjoy looking out a window free of dog nose smudges and handprints.
I’m not obsessive. You will likely always find sticky spots and dust bunnies and you won’t have to look hard to find them. You cannot, I repeat, you cannot eat off of my floor. There is a definite line between the pristine look of a house that suggests no one is actually allowed to live here and the acknowledgement that life is, in fact, lived and sometimes messy. Very messy. I think I negotiate that line pretty well. My house doesn’t have to look as if it is about to be photographed for House and Garden. I simply take a lot of pleasure in having it look inviting and peaceful. I keep the jangle of clutter off the coffee table so that you have room to put up your feet. Coffee?
Labels: shoes
cobbled together by Moi at 9:12 AM
9 Comments:
Okay. I was cringing when you mentioned sand in your house, but you jolted me at the mention of the piano.
Tell me everything about your piano. What kind? Dimensions? Who plays it? What song was last played on it?
What would you like for me to play most of all? Pick anything.
You know. . .
Jon, Glad I could mitigate the cringing. It's a Wurlitzer upright spinet. I have no idea what it's dimensions are but it's a smallish guy. We all noodle around on it but none of us knows what we are doing. The last thing that was played on it - badly - was a "young pianists" version of Bach's Minuet in G Major. That would have been me, badly playing it.
You may play anything on it you wish but I would probably request "Moonlight Sonata", which I realize is hackneyed as hell but there it is.
Housework is evil!
Now, now, Grish. Maybe I should put on a pot of decaf.
OH!.OH!..."Claire de Lune" on the piano!
I love that music...I mean,..if jon is taking requests.
I think there's something special about cleaning the house, especially when its cool (or warm) enough for the windows to be open. Then put on some fun music (Peggy Lee?) and go to it.
We are soooo separated at birth on this one! Hey, what's a good wood polish? The Method stuff ain't cutting it and I need to try something different.
Oh, dear, Charlie went bump again.
Jon, did you get that? Sling has a request. Put a dollar in the Piano Man's jar, dude.
S&C: Exactly. More likely to be Bruce or U2 for me but it still gets the job done!
Edy: Duh. Did you try Mrs. Meyer's furniture polish? I love that stuff. And you know, good ol' Old English will work in a pinch.
I like watching other people clean house. Now that's relaxing...hehe
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