Where's Hazel When You Need Her?

I hate housework.

I've always hated housework.

When I was younger, before I got hurt, I could, at least, do housework.

Now that I can't do much, I hate it even worse because my options are as follows:

1. Hire someone, and the person is rarely found that actually dusts well. Most of the women I've hired dust around the objects on the table, never removing them, much less dusting them. This is not dusting, people. This is piddling around. Even after I explain to a prospective cleaner how hard my house is to dust, how dusty it gets, and how this is the most important reason they are being hired, though they may nod and smile, they still piddle.

2. Nag, whine, pout, explode, fret, bellow, etc. for my family to clean the house. Daughter right now is vacuuming her little heart out. Husband re-potted stuff this morning for me and is running errands. Don't get me wrong, they are good people. The thing is, the vacuuming needed doing Monday, this is Thursday. The re-potting needed done last fall.

Stuff that is very important to me to get done, is not very important to them. I try to reason with myself and say that the world won't come to an end if the twenty pounds of cat and dog hair float around the house like tumbleweeds, I just wish it would.

I have fantasies of grabbing the vacuum cleaner and doing it myself, thereby guaranteeing, if not a trip to the ER, at least a whole day in bed with pain pills and tears.

Boy, that would show 'em!

If I had a full time maid, who actually worked, this house could be really clean.

I don't think those exist anymore, or if they do, it is so far out of my financial ballpark, I don't know of their existence. Same difference.

I've thought about shaving the dog and cats. Maybe moving away and living in a bubble. It's even crossed my mind to try and live with it, but as hard as I try, it just builds and builds and I become mad as an old wet hen.

There  has to be a solution.

If there weren't so many tumbleweeds rolling about, perhaps I could see it.

Housework, Housewife, Dr. House, Household, House

I've been thinking about housework. (Who am I and what have I done with me?) What got me thinking about this: the sound of the vacuum is driving me crazy. Hear that? Sheesh. Why don't they invent a silent vacuum cleaner?

Anyone?

Bueller?

We used to pay someone to clean every two weeks, and the week in-between it was "through the middle cleaning" to get by. But we can't afford that anymore. In the last two years my insurance has gone up over two hundred dollars, and I ain't had a raise on my retirement check since 2004.

So now, it's divided by three and I use that mathematical term loosely. I do what little piddly stuff I can, my husband does whatever he can't keep putting off after DAYS of putting it off and then being so dramatic about how hard he works that I'd just about skip grocery shopping for a week and hire someone again, except I really like to eat. (Shut up)

My daughter does a lot. She is in college and works part of a day at the church, but she's been unable to find a part time job, so I gave her one. The pay is pretty good. She gets a roof over her head and food. It's sort of like living in one of those posh resorts with all the amenities, like running water and stuff.

We are having a guest this afternoon, plus it's Thursday and things really go downhill here by Thursday. Lots of trash, lots of dust, lots of cat/dog/people hair, everywhere. Especially cat hair. We have one cat that can crouch and squeeze her eyes closed and drop four or five clumps of hair on the spot. She's very talented.

And, have you ever noticed, you think your house is clean and then you are going to have company and it's like the whatyoumacallits fall from your eyes? Look at those cobwebs! See that pile of books that haven't been moved since 1989! And where, may I ask, did that come from? Unbelievable.

I cleaned out the kitchen sink with Comet after my daughter cleaned up the kitchen, and I happened to glance up at the window sill in front of me. Oh. my. lord. I usually think of this as a pleasant place. I have a little carved bluebird, a tiny watering can with wild flowers painted on it, a pretty snow ball plant, and Tobias.

Tobias is a beta and he swims around and watches everything we do. He really likes for us to be at the sink and stove; I guess it's entertaining to him.

But the window sill was no longer a nice, smooth cream color. It was fuzzy and scuzzy. I'm a poet and don't know it.

So I took all the aforementioned stuff off the sill and got the old Windex out and cleaned her off.

Now the house is immaculate.

Somebody turn that durn vacuum cleaner off!

Ahh, that's better.

I wonder if I have time for a nap before company....