I should be packing. We are going to spend our first week at my parent's recently purchased caravan. Packing for five, and for potentially hot/wet/chilly (peppers?) weather is tiresome. I am disorganised, yet try so hard to become a fastidious individual. I long to be like those people who compile lists, then satisfyingly tick off each line. How I dream of achieving a military-standard model of structured systems and routines. Instead, hours are wasted completing laps of vicious circles. Occasionally, I'll introduce some order, and almost believe I've cracked the secret code to domestic Dewey Decimalistic bliss.
Maybe the world needs people like me, who are never on top of things, but always keeping various plates spinning. Perhaps that's why visitors to my home usually seem very comfortable (despite me secretly wilting inside with shame). My late grandmother (paternal) who I only met once when I was very young, was apparently a lot like me (only worse). With her fingers in several proverbial pies at any given time, the chaos around her was suffocating. On the other side, my mother's mum, who died before I was born, was house-proud to the extreme. Mum tells me she remembers watching her mother fall asleep into her dinner, toddler style, because she's been cleaning solidly since 5 a.m.
So, perhaps I carry a mix of their personalities, and fail to achieve the high standards on my maternal grandmother's side, or the dizzying levels of oppressive chaotic claustrophobia of my paternal grandmother?
This leads me to conclude that 'happy medium' is not great, as that is what I would be in comparison. It also leads me to conclude that there is no 'perfect' approach to chores.
I shall finish my drink, and battle through at a steady pace. Inevitably, I'll get there.
Maybe the world needs people like me, who are never on top of things, but always keeping various plates spinning. Perhaps that's why visitors to my home usually seem very comfortable (despite me secretly wilting inside with shame). My late grandmother (paternal) who I only met once when I was very young, was apparently a lot like me (only worse). With her fingers in several proverbial pies at any given time, the chaos around her was suffocating. On the other side, my mother's mum, who died before I was born, was house-proud to the extreme. Mum tells me she remembers watching her mother fall asleep into her dinner, toddler style, because she's been cleaning solidly since 5 a.m.
So, perhaps I carry a mix of their personalities, and fail to achieve the high standards on my maternal grandmother's side, or the dizzying levels of oppressive chaotic claustrophobia of my paternal grandmother?
This leads me to conclude that 'happy medium' is not great, as that is what I would be in comparison. It also leads me to conclude that there is no 'perfect' approach to chores.
I shall finish my drink, and battle through at a steady pace. Inevitably, I'll get there.
I sympathise. I have been wearing the same 50s day dress and smock/leggings combos since I got to Wales, as inevitably I assumed we'd also need jumpers, leather jackets, boots etc.
ReplyDeleteAs for housework, I remain convinced that if only I could get the house to a specific mythical state of cleanliness which exists only in my mind - it would somehow become possible to keep it this way with just 10 minute daily rounds with a damp cloth. Just keep ticking over, as it were. I know this is unrealistic, and that I should concentrate on hoovering a bit more often instead of shaking the toaster onto the lawn, but still the idea of the whole house being clean at once persists!
Im off on holiday next sunday and really should get bum into gear regarding getting everything wash and packed at least 24 hours before i leave! Even harder now to to back for my boy too. As for housework, ive got to a point where i realise i will never have the spotless show home, therefore clean the areas vistors will see regulary and not worry too much about the rest *wink*. Scarlett x
ReplyDeleteScarlett has the right idea. As my husband likes to remind me: "This is our home, WE live here. It is not a showcase." I used to have this dream that I would do a deep clean and then 'keep on top of it'. It doesn't happen. And it's even worse now I'm retired, as there so many other things I would rather be doing. Also, the older you get, you realise that life is for living, not for doing housework. As long as it's clean, who cares?
ReplyDeletewhen you get to the caravan, whose job will it be to cut the crusts off the cucumber sandwiches ?
ReplyDelete