I haven't written to you in a very long time. I have to admit that I haven't been able to keep up with things lately. Vacuuming, laundry, dishes, spring cleaning the screens, donating unused items so we can put other stuff away. It's overwhelming. I groan when people tell me they've begun to mow the lawn. It's exhausting and deadening, cleaning. No, I'm not a Merry Poppins kind of clean-up girl. Not. Don't even start whistling 'a spoon full of sugar.' Just don't.
For example, there's laundry. I'm okay doing the wash, even emptying the contents of the dryer onto an unused bed, but I have to admit that I'm terrible about getting around to folding the pile of clothes. Are you appalled? Bathrooms? Can we say Exxon station? I look at my kitchen counter tops sometimes and am appalled. I try to keep them clean but I come along an hour after I've wiped them clean and there are crumbs or a smeared hunk of mashed potatoes or a splash of Louisiana hot sauce on it. Sometimes I give up for a while. I'm just very careful about not letting prepared food touch my counters. Forget the floors. Tonight, I stepped on a lump of mashed potatoes that someone, SOMEONE, dropped and didn't clean up.
At least I'm cooking. Mike has been sending me emails and text messages with recipes he'd like me to try. I told him it's worse if he says, "I don't care." Tell a woman who has cooked her family approximately 8800 meals that you don't care what she cooks for dinner tomorrow and you might inadvertently get a spit package deal with your next meal. See, it's exhausting trying to figure out what to make day in and day out. It's great when they ask for something easy and you have all the ingredients. It kind of makes you feel like they enjoy your meals and it's not so much of a drudgery then. Sometimes you might even sing in the kitchen though it embarrasses your teenaged boy as if someone, anyone might overhear you. God forbid you dance in your kitchen too.
It's also not too bad when your husband sends you recipes he might like, but the problem there is the combination of an untested recipe together with the uneven job of buying groceries to match. Which Louisiana hot sauce is better? I'm telling you that the one I used tonight almost peeled my tongue but Mike and Nick both loved it. I'm more of a mild spice kind of person. So, they're going to have to deal with the one I used last time. Now the recipe is nearly tested and I'll probably end up buying both kinds and use some of each to compromise somewhere between scalding my sinuses and engaging their tastebuds. Or I could just buy what I like and they have to deal with it all since I'm the damned cook and my stomach lining matters to me. Theirs is just a preference, right?
So, I'm cooking new things and it's kind of making me happy though my kitchen counters need more attention than ever when I cook. I think I've needed to be cooking. Along with seeing art, cooking makes me happy.
Now, I just wish someone would sweep through without judgement and clean my house from windows to toilet seats. Maybe they could mow the lawn too. I wouldn't mind that at all.
There are no laundry fairies, I'm afraid, and definitely no toilet fairies. Damn. What a world it would be if there were toilet fairies in it.
Thank you for listening, jb
For example, there's laundry. I'm okay doing the wash, even emptying the contents of the dryer onto an unused bed, but I have to admit that I'm terrible about getting around to folding the pile of clothes. Are you appalled? Bathrooms? Can we say Exxon station? I look at my kitchen counter tops sometimes and am appalled. I try to keep them clean but I come along an hour after I've wiped them clean and there are crumbs or a smeared hunk of mashed potatoes or a splash of Louisiana hot sauce on it. Sometimes I give up for a while. I'm just very careful about not letting prepared food touch my counters. Forget the floors. Tonight, I stepped on a lump of mashed potatoes that someone, SOMEONE, dropped and didn't clean up.
At least I'm cooking. Mike has been sending me emails and text messages with recipes he'd like me to try. I told him it's worse if he says, "I don't care." Tell a woman who has cooked her family approximately 8800 meals that you don't care what she cooks for dinner tomorrow and you might inadvertently get a spit package deal with your next meal. See, it's exhausting trying to figure out what to make day in and day out. It's great when they ask for something easy and you have all the ingredients. It kind of makes you feel like they enjoy your meals and it's not so much of a drudgery then. Sometimes you might even sing in the kitchen though it embarrasses your teenaged boy as if someone, anyone might overhear you. God forbid you dance in your kitchen too.
It's also not too bad when your husband sends you recipes he might like, but the problem there is the combination of an untested recipe together with the uneven job of buying groceries to match. Which Louisiana hot sauce is better? I'm telling you that the one I used tonight almost peeled my tongue but Mike and Nick both loved it. I'm more of a mild spice kind of person. So, they're going to have to deal with the one I used last time. Now the recipe is nearly tested and I'll probably end up buying both kinds and use some of each to compromise somewhere between scalding my sinuses and engaging their tastebuds. Or I could just buy what I like and they have to deal with it all since I'm the damned cook and my stomach lining matters to me. Theirs is just a preference, right?
So, I'm cooking new things and it's kind of making me happy though my kitchen counters need more attention than ever when I cook. I think I've needed to be cooking. Along with seeing art, cooking makes me happy.
Now, I just wish someone would sweep through without judgement and clean my house from windows to toilet seats. Maybe they could mow the lawn too. I wouldn't mind that at all.
There are no laundry fairies, I'm afraid, and definitely no toilet fairies. Damn. What a world it would be if there were toilet fairies in it.
Thank you for listening, jb
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