So. You know how I'm always talking about the black, greasy dust of Lloyd?
That's it right there. Uh-huh. And that's just part of what came off some mini-blinds today. I should be so ashamed.
As I texted Lily and Jessie today, I should soak those mini blinds in the tub and then scrub them and then possibly throw them away. In my defense (as if there were any way to defend oneself against such blatant filth), I never even look at those blinds. They are behind some curtains which I never touch because my bathroom is open to all of Lloyd unless the windows stay covered. I mean OPEN! In theory, it's a lovely and light-filled space but in reality, it's a voyeur's dream come true unless the windows remain blinded and curtained. And since I am the one who uses that bathroom, it's not a voyeur's dream, it's a neighbor's nightmare. I mean- who wants to see ME naked and brushing my teeth?
No one. That's who. Even my cats avert their eyes. When I moved here, I entertained the idea of building trellises with the bamboo which grows so fiercely in the yard and training some sort of dense plant to grow on them in front of the bathroom windows. I mean, I was a Girl Scout. I know how to lash shit, goddammit, and not in the S&M kind of way, either. But have I lashed so much as a trivet?
Oh hell no.
Anyway, as another friend of mine and I were saying in texts today, we both wish that a crew would just show up and completely clean our houses, top to bottom. This is the sort of super hero team I'd be interested in knowing. And quite frankly, at this point, a super hero cleaning team with super cleaning powers is about my one hope of ever getting this house truly clean.
Bless this old house's heart. Between my natural and innate hatred of housecleaning and aging, it's just getting harder and harder to keep things clean.
I'm getting old, y'all.
When I told Owen that yes, we could make cookies yesterday he was so delighted. And then he said, "I didn't know you'd be up for the challenge anymore, Mer!"
How old does that child think I am?
And let me tell you something else- no matter how I feel, this house in Apalachicola is going to happen. My husband wants this so much that it's not even debatable. This is HUGE for him, to build this house that he's been planning in his mind for over twenty years. Although I do not believe in astrology one bit, he is a Cancer. Which is the most home-centered sign there is. And if there is one thing I know in this life, it's that being partnered with someone who loves home and family is about the best thing that can happen to you if those two things matter to you as well.
And they matter to me.
Again, I repeat- I do not believe in that astrology shit one bit but a friend of mine who did my chart told me that although my birth sign is Leo, I am far more Cancer.
So. There you go. The Leo part of me wonders why I'm not onstage while my minions are cleaning my house and the Cancer part of me wants nothing more than a clean, peaceful home where my children and grandchildren feel happy and contented and welcome and peaceful.
It's...complicated...as they say.
All right. I'm drinking a martini and roasting a chicken and I'm about to go cook some okra and tomatoes with a few green beans thrown in.
Look at this.
Red okra blossom. Jeez, y'all. That's just pure pretty.
I think of Roseanne Barr and how she introduced the term "Domestic Goddess" to the world.
Maybe when I die, my obituary shall call me one of those, while making it quite clear that house-cleaning was not something that interested me in the least.
I'm feeling a little Stonesy as I tend to do when I drink a martini.
Some nice photos there of the boys and a huge shout-out to Valium and remember those ten Valium that I got before I left for Cuba?
I still have quite a few left.
I'm doing the best I can.
As are you.