Today's Project

Growing up, my father kept his guns in the utility closet. He was a soldier and a hunter. He always had guns in the closet. He taught us to consider any gun as loaded. So we were never to go into the closet. We were not to touch the closet, or even look at it. As a result, I grew up with an abnormal fear of the utility closet. 

The utility closet in my apartment is located in a very prominent place; in the dining area, just outside the kitchen. And it is somewhat of an eyesore. I bought some wall stickers trying to improve the look of it. It does not distract from the fact that it is the utility closet. And it isn't exactly the look I was looking for. It reminds me of something you might put up as a backdrop for a dessert table at a home bridal shower. I am trying to decide if I want to keep it for a while.

Speaking about tables. I think I may have found one. I found it on FB Marketplace. It is located a couple of miles from here. And it is solid wood for the price that I would have paid for a plastic folding table and a few chairs. Tim and I will be going to pick it up tomorrow afternoon. I hope this will work out. 

Clean Enough for an Irish Housewife

 I woke up this morning and cleaned my entire apartment, top to bottom. I wiped everything down, cleaned the windowsills and baseboards. I scrubbed the bathtub and toilet. I dusted, swept, vacuumed, and mopped. It all took me about an hour and a half to accomplish. I wasn't in any hurry.  And when I had finished, I heard my mother speaking in my head saying, "It's clean enough for an Irish housewife, I suppose." 

It wasn't a compliment. My mother used to say it after we'd all finished our chores. And what she meant by it was that it was clean, but you could still tell that someone actually lived in the house we had just cleaned. Then she'd go back through and by some trick I could never figure out, turn the space we'd just cleaned into a room that was good enough to be in a museum. Why she thought that a house inhabited by six children should ever look as if nobody lived there is well beyond me. 

I heard my aunts and grandmother use the same term, so I think it must have come from my great-grandmother, and who knows who before her. The cultural derision is still apparent, though no one in my family is ashamed of having Irish descent. It was just a term that was used.

I looked around after my imagined critique from my dear departed mother and decided that clean enough for an Irish housewife was plenty good enough for me today. The king isn't coming to tea, after all. I don't need my home to look as if nobody lives here to be comfortable in it. I enjoy clean. But clean enough is enough.

Time

 The first day of the year has quietly slipped into the second. I am awake, as always, in the wee hours of the morning. 

I had plans to start the new year off doing traditional things, like making the peas and greens etc. Instead, I spent the day writing letters to those who were kind enough to send me Christmas cards. I could have gotten cards out, and it would have been a good time to do it. But to be honest, I just didn't think about it until I started receiving cards. The letters were brief, just an acknowledgement of receiving the cards, and explanation that I had moved and an invitation to visit me anytime. I included the new address. I have six of them stamped and ready to go into the mail. 

Where the rest of the day went, I could not tell. As my grandmother would have said, I piddled. I got a few small things accomplished. I read a few pages of The Hobbit. Mostly I looked around and made plans. Or to be more accurate, I remade plans. I have been planning to get a full-sized bed for the main bedroom. But I have queen-sized sheets and blankets and comforters. And if couples come to stay, as I have invited six so far, having a queen-sized bed would be much more comfortable. The room is big enough to handle a queen. My main objection is that I can't manhandle a queen-sized mattress by myself. But the truth is that I doubt I'd be able to manhandle a full-sized one either. When I need to flip it around, I'd still need to have my son come over to help me do it.

After piddling my day away and remaking decisions that I thought I'd already settled, I looked at the can of peas and the can of greens and just couldn't bring myself to want to eat them. I took them out to the small sharing shelf near the mailboxes and left them there. Someone had left two televisions there. I brought one in to see if it worked, and it did. But it isn't a smart TV and will need an interface to hook up to wi-fi. I decided that televisions are the only thing that are still cheap enough and decided that I didn't want to mess with that one. I took it back.

When I got back inside, I took all of the leftover snacks and treats from the holidays out of the refrigerator and made myself a charcuterie meal. I may have no luck or money for the whole year, but I did not have to eat those peas and greens. I hope someone else will enjoy them for me.

And now it's the early morning hours of the second day of the year and I'm still piddling. But that's okay.