Soul Destroying

I just paid a visit to Mr L’s office – to enquire whether we might not be rich for a while. Could he not win the lottery or something – after all, I cannot, as I never play it.

I told him: he can have no conception of just how much I hate housework. I loathe it. I find it soul-destroying. There are so many other better things to be doing – productive and creative things. Enjoyable things. If anyone ever needed a cleaning lady, I do.

It could just be that I am weird. I don’t believe I have ever met another person who admits to being reduced to tears by an hour of tidying and vacuuming. Most folks seem to appreciate the results of housework but I simply cannot see the point. Entropy will have its way. It is impossible to fight – the task is endless and non-productive. It’s not even as though I feel comfortable in a clean and tidy house – I don’t. I like my mess around me. It’s comforting.

If we want to sell this house than I really must put the effort in – but, oh, how I want to cry right now. It is but mid-morning and I have done very little, really. It’s enough. Sufficient. More than. I really need this coffee. I really, really need to be rich and to have a staff. That’s what I need. I’d be good to them. I would. I’d pay them well and appreciate them.  Just don’t let them get near my cooker, other than to clean it. That’s my territory.

There are people, it is said, who feel the same way about cooking as I do about cleaning. Maybe I should find one of those and then we can live side by side and share our loads. I’ll cook all the meals, and they can do the washing up. They can do the ironing and I’ll exchange for a hand-knitted sweater.  I’ll bake their daily bread if only they will vacuum beneath my bed…

Soup again today. We are trying a regime of main meal soups on alternate days. Today I am making Green Soup. There will be peas involved but also probably some slightly softening cucumber and a somewhat suspect lettuce.  Economy is the name of the game and I am making sure that nothing gets wasted. Yes – soup, like everything else is better when made with good fresh ingredients but it can also hide a multitude of sins until such time as I get my new purchasing act together. There is good fresh home made bread from yesterday to dunk in the pottage; I shan’t feel too guilty.

What I  really want to be doing is to be sitting here with a  good audio book and completing my Rivington Cowl. It was a disaster, casting this on last week at Spinning. I have not been able to put it down since. I love it and I really enjoy working on it. The main striped lace section is complete and I am putting in the garter stitch stripes now before embarking on the lace edging. My big cardigan is sulking on a hanger and I really should get that finished. My hands are enjoying the change of activity though.

There seems to be sufficient yarn to make two Rivingtons, so I may not be able to stop once the first one is finished. One for me and one to give away.

I have spoken to the vendor of the house that we saw last weekend. I confirmed that we would like to make this thing happen and that we are already working towards getting the house on the market.  The bathroom is looking gorgeous, after a weekend of flurry. The outside of the house will get more attention as and when the weather permits. New fluffy roller covers arrived last week, intended to make the task of painting easier. Unfortunately they did not fit any of our roller cages. Two new roller cages arrived today. This suggests that my assistance is required. No doubt I’ll be covered in paint by bed time.

A trip to town is on the cards this week but Orkney Ferries are back on a two-boat schedule, so I am not sure that I shall bother. If I don’t, we will most likely be reduced to plain potato soup next week. That’s not much to write about, is it?

Right – I’m back to the utility room now, tidying, sorting and ordering. Shout if you need me, of if you spot a char lady on the horizon.

One Comment

  1. August 21, 2013

    Cleaning sucks. I grew up in a house that got increasingly chaotic and dirty as the years went on and never really noticed.
    Now, P is from different stock and he is used to a sparkling clean and tidy house. He has been gradually training me into first appreciating cleanness and tidyness, then contributing to making it happen. I have now come to the point where I enjoy space and clear surfaces, and will make some effort to get them that way. I don’t enjoy it though.
    I’ve never yet decorated a room.

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