An appropriate topic to expound on today. It has been 10 weeks since our bi-weekly (every 2 weeks) cleaning lady has been here (COVID-19). Now why would a retired couple with all the time in the world to polish trinkets need a cleaning lady? Because this member of the household has a powerful aversion to the menial tasks of cleaning.
When I was working there were always more important things to do. Running errands, shopping, training dogs (six of them at one point), playing the piano….I could come up with all kinds of excuses.
Laundry I could handle. Well, sort of. It got done on Sunday or not at all. My son was apprised that his laundry had to be delivered or it wouldn’t get done. I wasn’t braving his room and the various heaps of clothing to collect. I thought that would result in him being more organized. Maybe putting his laundry in the pending load. Nope. He followed my approach to a “t”. He did his own, when he was desperate for something clean.
Dishes? My husband has taken that task upon himself. Not exactly sensitive to over-use of power. The dishwasher hums away multiple times a day. I love to cook so it is a godsend to have someone following me around, cleaning up. It is a mite challenging when tools that I have not yet finished with disappear into that dishwasher. He married me knowing my proclivities. While courting he often arrived at my house to a sink stacked full of dirty dishes. I knew I had found the right man – he would wash them.
Dusting? Swifters are an amazing invention. Our dog’s favourite “I gotta have it” toy. Those trinkets we should have plenty of time to polish – with my approach to cleaning we should be totally “uncluttered”. My mother was an artist. My brother, sister and niece into art and crafts. I love the arts and crafts shows and have acquired innumerable items that grace the mantle, the shelves on the living room furniture, the bookcases downstairs. All needing that TLC called dusting.
The only dog in the house now is one of those outstanding no shed varieties. Well, except that isn’t quite true. Poodles shed their puppy coats – there are tufts of black “fur” all over the house. At least it doesn’t weave into the drapes and the carpet.
Speaking of bookshelves. Here my husband is less helpful. I have hundreds of books and dozens haven’t come off the shelves in the entire time we have lived here. Sound like another “uncluttering” task. Then the files from all my projects during my consulting career, the binders from my Masters, files from my time in practice, years of statements and receipts.
Things get stuffed into the closets – out of sight, out of mind. Until the door won’t close.
Too many hobbies. Cameras and camera bags including a 35m camera – you know the film kind! We have enough lights and tripods to stock a studio. Chairs, tents from dog show days. Agility equipment – tunnel, jumps, weave poles. Never ends.
My home office, that I now rarely visit, has three laptop computers sitting on the floor and a PC that hasn’t been turned on in at least 6 months. All waiting for me to be sure that all essential data has been archived and then to reformat and dispose of. I am a hoarder by nature as my above comments indicate. That includes data. I might need it or someone might need it. You want an email that was sent 7 years ago. No problem.
Here we are in lockdown (nicely referred to as social isolation) so what better time could there be than to tackle the issues. Too unutterably depressing. Back to the piano, or train the dog, or browse the news. I should really be chasing down my friend’s son and his “Got Junk” business venture. My husband would be applauding.
Ah, well. Maybe tomorrow. Oops. Made plans, including welcoming back our housecleaner. At least the surface dirt can be addressed.
Is it too late to reform?
