Just wait until winter, she said. Things will slow down, she said. I'll get so much done that I just cannot get done when I'm so busy with the gardens and stuff...
I seem to be running around like a parody of myself. Like a Sufi dancer in a rut. Spinning spinning (slowly) like a dented child's tin top...wobbling and dipping and falling, only to right itself again and spin even more slowly, if that is possible, and then finally coming to a complete stop.
I do little small cleaning jobs, but never completely finish one. I cook and do laundry and take care of the critters, sure. But the desk in my office is a disaster, and my new 2014 desk calendar is still propped up against the wall on the floor.
The dust is getting thick again on the bookshelves and end tables and any static surface, actually. I took the slipcovers off the loveseats to wash, and didn't put them back on immediately because it started raining and was such a muddy mess out there that the dogs and cats were tracking in, I thought--I'll wait. It hasn't rained in days now, and the covers are still not on. Sigh...the wood floors are all covered in paw prints of various species. I'd mop them, but really--what's the point ? So, I vacuum and I sweep and I look at them from a different angle and think " it'll do ". Plus--this time of year it's hard enough to run the vacuum when it's too cold for the critters to be outside for long and they all think the vacuum is the weapon I'm using to try to murder them.
In my bedroom, I have a long (maybe 8 ft.) dresser that sits along one wall. It has (naturally) become a catch all. The Irishman stacks his work pants there. I stack things there that I carry out of the dining room (off the table mostly) when I'm trying to pretend I'm cleaning house. I also have a stack of old levis of his that either A) Need repairs that I can't do--(zippers mostly) or B) That need pockets resown or are just shot, but still have a lot of good denim on them. I think --Hey--I could cut these up and make something with them...a car quilt or something. I can't bear to just throw them away... You get the picture. The dresser is a behemoth that is piled about 3 foot high. Both our bedside tables are stacked high with books and odds and ends. And did I mention the dust? And lots of his papers from District and OH lord !! He gets all grumpy when I mess about with his stuff...so I tend to leave that side of the room alone, even when I do finally clean up the rest. So it's never magazine picture clean. And it should be! You know..I have this gorgeous big cherry sleigh bed and matching lamps and bedside tables and oh...dear...it SHOULD be an inviting room and pretty to look at. And it just isn't.
My living room is cluttered and while, relatively clean, it never is. There's always dog hair and cat hair and feathers raining down and floating around. And the floors are dirty and the carpet is stained and though I try to keep it clean, it's impossible. But I also have books everywhere. The end table by the couch is so full of stuff you can't see the wood. The dusty wood. (Maybe that part is a blessing?) lol Again, that's where the Irishman plants himself to read after supper, and what are you going to do? I dutifully go through there and put his glasses back in the case and in the drawer. Pick up any pens or bookmarks or whatever. If I try to put books away, he wants to know what I did with his stuff. I am not kidding: there are no less than 10 books on that table. Surely he can't be reading all of them ???
The kitchen is a dizzying series of clean and cluttered and clean and cluttered again. The most recent phase of cleaning was due to chopping and cubing 10 quarts of pineapple for the freezer. Finishing that up allowed me to get rid of the big boxes the pineapples were in and clearing off the island in the middle of the room. (I always wished I had one of those islands, and -while I do love it-I now know that it's just one more place to drop things.) And because pineapple juice is so sticky and sweet, it forced me to move all the things on the counters and wipe everything down good. Yay ! But then I cook and do one more thing in there and suddenly BOOM! You can't tell it's been cleaned in weeks.
We won't even talk about the guest room. It gets cleaned when someone is coming (almost never) and it gets cleaned when I can't walk through there anymore (More often). There's a dresser and a queen sized bed in there. There's a pantry in there. The squash and potatoes and onions are all stored in there. The springwater bottles (6 cases of 4 one gallon ) are stored in there. That's the room we turn the heat off in and use for winter storage. And all the small appliances (crockpots, rice cookers, foreman grills, pasta makers, waffle irons, food processors, stand mixers, electric skillets --you get the idea) are also kept in there. Ideally in the closet on a shelf, but honestly, on the bed where I can get to them easily. Sigh....and then every now and then I open the door and go in there and put everything in it's rightful place, vacuum the floors, remake the bed with it's lovely little blue quilt and close the door again (to keep it cool). And the cycle starts all over again. Right now, on top of all the other stuff, there are still residues of Xmas wrappings and boxes and ...oh my...it just never ends...although, I did get the boxes of decorations out of there when I packed up all the Xmas stuff.
So...here it is, the middle of January, and all those plans I had have still not come to fruition. I haven't got the energy to even contemplate a plan. What to do? If I had lots of money, I still wouldn't hire someone else to clean up MY mess, because that's not how I was raised. Hodgepodges, mishmashes, collections of things I don't care about really, clutter, dog toys, books, and dust, dust, dust. It never goes away, that dust. The price of country living, I tell myself. The price of not keeping my house sealed up like a mausoleum. Because every chance I get, I throw the doors and windows open and let in every bit of fresh air I can. Not many chances of that in this weather, but still, the dust finds it's way in, albeit at a slightly slower rate than in summer. And the dogs and cats track in bits and bobs of leaves and twigs and dirt and pebbles. And the Irishman tracks in mud and dirt on his workboots. And really on whatever shoes he happens to be wearing at whatever time. lol
I keep telling myself--This is country life. This is our lived in home. And I haven't given up completely. So...as soon as I get that 30 pounds of onions peeled and sliced and get the caramelized onion comfit canned...I'm gonna give it another try.
There's still February and March, right ?