Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Ah! The Splendid Impermanence Of Everything

This is from a text exchange Lily and I had yesterday and every person who has ever kept a house knows what I said to be true. 
That 99% of housework only stays done for about five minutes. 

You mop that floor and sure as hell, someone's going to drop an egg or a glass of juice or something on it. Or track something in which around here could easily be chicken shit.
It'll happen.
You get the laundry gathered and sorted and washed and dried and folded and put away and guess what? The laundry basket's already half full again.
Or completely full, depending on factors such as how many people live in your house and how large or small or old or young they are.
It's goes without saying that as soon as the toilet's scrubbed, it's going to be used again immediately.
Wash the sink out? Make it sparkle?
Someone with the grubbiest hands in the world will, without doubt, come in and wash those grubby hands and leave the grit and dirt behind, not even noticing the fact that the sink WAS clean and now is not.
Nope. Not going to notice, not going to care.
I have no idea why I bother to make the bed although when I walk through that room it gives me a second of satisfaction, seeing it made up and smooth, ready for me to get back in it as soon as it is decently acceptable for an adult to go to bed. So I guess that's a good reason.
Dust? You must be kidding. Especially around here where the dust is, as I have said so many times before, black and practically greasy. 

And cooking- well, of course we all know that you can start a soup or a stew at one o'clock in the afternoon and tend it like a needy newborn baby until dinner time at eight and in fifteen minutes, it will have mostly been consumed and you're left to wonder what you're going to make for supper tomorrow night. 
While you wash the dishes and scrub the pot.

Ah well. This is the way it is. Not one damn thing from a clean floor to a light bulb to Michelangelo's David is going to last forever. 
As St. George Harrison said, "All Things Must Pass" and the Bible might have said it too and probably Shakespeare and if I were really corny, I'd say that a couple of urologists have probably said it to a patient with a kidney stone but I'm not corny at all, as you know so I won't say that. 
And honestly, sometimes it's sad and frustrating at how quickly things go undone that we have spent so much time doing but sometimes, it's as comforting as a freshly-made-with-clean-sheets bed to know that all things will indeed pass. 

And just for the record:

Not only clean and freshly mopped but double-mopped. Ah! How I love the smell of Fabuloso and white vinegar. 

And it's just waiting for Mr. Moon to come home and track in chicken shit.
It'll happen.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I could quote a Kansas song but I won't.

    Sometimes when I do laundry I save the last load to just before bed so at least the only dirty thing is my pyjamas. It is the same day as I do the bedding and I always have a bath and wash my hair the same day. Everything is clean!

    You already know I am a little mental. It brings me comfort to be obsessive sometimes.

    1. Dust in the wind? Haha!
      I have clean sheets tonight. I am so damn excited. I think that perhaps my antidepressant is making me a little OCD. Oh well. I need to clean my house.

  2. That is one beautiful floor. Ah housework. I go through cycles. Right now, I am in a cycle of ignoring the dust on surfaces and while i've swept the floor, it is definitely due for a good mopping. Fubuloso and vinegar, huh?

    1. And a lot of water, of course. Fabuloso to me is the scent of Mexico. So I adore it. Mix it with a little bit of vinegar and it's positively holy.

  3. housework is both exhilarating and depressing...........knowing as you say, that the glory of the sheen will only last a few moments. Ahh.......... so it is. Your floors are beautiful, mine are NOT! Laundry??????? oh, don't get me started on that. How can an empty hamper become full overnight? I could just cry at times.......but persevere
    Susan M

    1. Yes. I don't suppose there is any real option. It's not like we can suddenly grow gills and go back to the sea where housework would be impossible.

  4. It's worth it, though, just to achieve that temporary joy from a clean house. That's how I feel, anyway. I always feel better when I make the bed, and when I then tune in on the Olga Cam and see that the bed is made, it makes me feel better to know that my empty house is at least CLEAN!

    For the record, your floor looks amazing. :)

    The thing I hate is, as you said, when others FAIL TO NOTICE the cleanliness and subsequent state of non-cleanliness. I'm like, ARE YOU BLIND?!

    1. In my heart I want to believe that eventually, it might be apparent if I gave up all attempts at housekeeping. Mostly though, I think the lack of clean underwear and the empty refrigerator would be the only things truly noted.

  5. The brilliant eccentric British writer Quentin Crisp (Sting wrote his song "An Englishman in New York" about him, the late John Hurt played him in the movie version of his book "The Naked Civil Servant") once said that he never did any housework and that after four years, the dirt doesn't get any worse.

    I think I clean the kitchen floor because I am hooked to the swishing noises of the mop and the smell of soft soap. Because, let's face it, kitchen floors, esp. the tiled variety, never sty clean. They are not meant to.

    1. No. They are NOT meant to. You are right. And I'm grateful for these pine boards because it's hard to tell whether you're looking at dirt or at knots in the wood. I had a white tile kitchen floor once. Boy was that a mistake.

  6. And this is why I don't do housework. If you want it to stay nice, you have to jump up and do something every.five.minutes. And those people freak me out.


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