I want to write about something near and dear to my heart: housework or actually my hatred of housework. Boring subject, I know. Like talking about brushing your teeth or changing your sheets.
The reason I'm writing about this is because when I turned the key yesterday and walked into my house, the first thing I saw was filth. The same filth I'd left, only more of it. My husband would argue that at least it was tidy. Not much. So today I've spent a bit of time defilthing my bathroom and the kitchen floor. So much more needs to be done, but here I sit writing this. That's because I consider housework to be something to do in between everything else I do.
How can you do that? I hear people say. Aren't you a housewife? Yes, and a very bad one. I'm a better mother, cook, and gardener. I used to have cleaners when the house was up for sale, two women who came once a week and started at the top of house and swished and wiped their way down for 2 hours and £30. When we took the house off the market, I decided to get rid of the cleaners because I realised I was cleaning the house for the cleaners. Now I hardly clean at all, but I'm £30 better off.
Part of the problem is that I live in a largish house. I just look at all that needs doing and go and hide. And the irony is that I was a better cleaner when I worked because it was a pleasant diversion from my job. No hassles and you could always see the fruit of your labours. Then I got married, stopped working, and had children. And pets. Children and pets are a bad combination. What one brings through the front door, the other brings in through the back. I have a cat who brings in half the garden on her tail, then flicks it all over the kitchen. I have a son who believes in wearing the same clothes all week long (boy time, he tells me, is different from girl time -- he's wise beyond his years). I have a daughter who clogs up her bathroom sink with hair -- lots of long, yucky hair. My husband can't get blamed much because he's hardly here. However, he has a study that I don't even go into because I can't open the door for all his junk.
I guess if I didn't care about having a clean house, it wouldn't bother me. But I do care actually. I watch that How Clean Is Your House? program, and get up and clean a bathroom afterwards.
And now that's what I have to do -- go clean a bathroom! Someone has to do it, I suppose.