I hate housework. Always have, always will. I don’t care for things that are boring and have such transient results. In my house that means a few minutes often. And that definitely makes it less than worthwhile.
I do it, and have been pretty darn religious about it since the big room by room wash down a year and a half ago. Still, you wouldn’t even want to think about eating off my floors. Only the dogs do that, and they have no class at all anyway.
I can mop a floor here, and go off to shop only to return to find large sand piles in the kitchen where the dogs have plopped awaiting my return. It’s dangerous most days to move around unshoed. Cats puke with regularity around here for some reason, and well, you get the picture. Everything that can cling to dog or cat fur ends up on my floor.
The walls are always speckled with muddy water, shook from said dogs. Cats seldom shake, and I don’t know why that is. Tubs are ringed with tiny kitty prints as they snoop far and wide.
And don’t even get me started on husbands! No, best leave that subject alone.
And you thought living in the country was clean? No, in a word. We live 1/2 mile from the dirt road and it manages to find its way back here and leaves a dusty trail with about two days. So much for all that “clean” air.
I have in a word given up, and just keep the surface clean, but don’t even suggest you want to visit, cause I’ll get the vapors. I’m just lucky to live with the Contrarian who thinks closets and drawers are for people who want to lose things. Better to dump it on the floor nearby where I can stub my toe in the middle of the night.
Speaking of which, a joke all women can relate to:
How do you know when your husband has fallen asleep on the couch, from the other room you are in?
When you hear the remote hit the floor.
Relate? Told ya you would.
I’m off to a luncheon today at the Church, which is why not much thought is going into this post. Just so ya know. Conversation with women is always so eclectic I think. It can range from tampons to Iran in a heartbeat and it all makes perfect sense to us.
I’m doing Facebook again. I signed up a couple of years ago, never got it, never found any groups I liked, and pretty much ignored it. Border Explorer mentioned to me that she had “friended” me and I related that I didn’t much participate. Well Twittering has pretty much been a bore, especially since all those who want to be me twitter friends these days are young women who don’t like to wear clothes. I’d be suspicious that the Contrarian was about nefariously twitting behind my back on my name, but he cares less about that stuff than he does about what’s going on in Big Brother, and he cares NOT about that.
Anyhooo, I had some time, and wandered over. Either it changed a lot, or I didn’t get it. It’s a lot more fun than I thought, and BE and I are mafia partners and playing Mafia Wars. It seems that QuakerDave is there a lot, as is Jeannelle, and a number of other bloggers. We exchange a lot of links and so forth and chat real time occasionally, which is also new.
I’ve befriended a few Church friends too. But what I just started doing is tracking down high school classmates. I’ve been in touch with a couple so far, and the stories of what we have done in the intervening 40+ years is truly amazing. It’s just fascinating to learn who married who, and what people ended up doing for a living and so forth.
So if you Facebook, look me up. You can follow the link on the left side or just enter my name, Sherry Peyton to find me.
Brandy and Bear had a great walk today with me. Brandy was in the bean field, only her tail wagging furiously as she ran along down the rows. Every ten yards or so, she leaped up and dove back under, much like a dolphin. Soon Bear got intrigued and joined her.
They raced along, until, whhhooooosh, a hen pheasant rose, followed by two, then two, then two more, all juveniles. So the pheasant population seems to have done well this year.
The dogs were ecstatic, and she was grinning from ear to ear as she rejoined me on the lane. I guess that passes for great fun for a dog.
Tomorrow is another full day at church it seems. Meetings at 9 before service, and at 10:30 after. I seem to be getting “involved.” I’m visiting the food pantry Tuesday to “learn the ropes” as it were. I went from having almost no commitments any month to having 5-6 or more. For a lazy person, that’s a lot, but I’m enjoying it, and finding it worthwhile and satisfying. Hopefully I am of some service to others in some small way.