Saturday, January 14, 2012

Day 146: Putting the "Ho" in Housekeeping

We turn our mattress every January: end to end on the even years, over (side to side) on the odd years. And in theory, this would be a good time to get under it and vacuum all the hard-to-reach spots, right? But I rarely do that (because, hard).

Except today I did. I vacuumed, I polished, I moved every piece of furniture away from the walls in our bedroom and cleaned behind, I dusted, I mopped, I laundered. Our bedroom sparkles with cleanness. I can hardly wait to slip between my warm flannel sheets tonight, rosy and glowing from my hot bath, breathing the freshly scrubbed air.

It was a lot of work and took all freakin' day, but with a nice glass of Apothic Red by my side, it was practically painless. (I do prefer white, as you know, but this is one yummy red wine.)

We do have 50 loads of laundry to fold — I'm washing everything, from curtains to comforters — but the kids will help with that. Easy-breezy.

And that's pretty much all I did today, though I did take Mimosa to the library (V Is for Vengeance is now in my hands!!), where I saw a most intriguing flyer:

A Not-So-Young Adult Book Club
  • Are you well past your teen years but find yourself reading a lot of YA?
  • Did you enjoy The Hunger Games and wish you could read more books like it?
  • Do you prefer Sarah Dessen to Nora Roberts?
Then this book club is for you!

I showed it to Mimosa, and she said, "Wow, that is you." (Especially since I was holding a Sarah Dessen book at that particular moment.) (Nora Roberts, ughy-pew.) I've never been in a book club and have always wanted to join one. But do I need another thing to do? (Yes, I know the answer to that.)

Well, we'll see.

I didn't do any recognizable exercise today, but c'mon, I lifted a whole bed. And I bounded up and down my stairs carrying my heavy Kirby vacuum. I think I got a workout. Here's hoping tomorrow's scale agrees with me.

I want to finish one more thing before hitting the tub, so I will bid you adieu.

Sayonara, sweeties!

—Lady C


  1. Sigh... this reminds me of those college days where somehow you had a key and would come into my appartment and make my kitchen sparkle. I miss those days!

  2. Hee! The "somehow" is that I had a master key. But did I really let myself in when you weren't there??? I don't remember that. I do remember washing your dishes while you read me poetry — such a sensual experience! And you taught me how to make cream of broccoli soup, which seemed SO EXOTIC to me. (Actually, everything about you seemed exotic to me back then! I couldn't believe you wanted to be friends with boring dorky me.)

    Did I wash a single dish on my last visit? I don't think so. Bad guest!!!!


  3. Yes, bad indeed. I think you need to come to my house right now and make it up to me.

    And me exotic? I recall you as the reining queen of witty repartee floating through the quad with a fiery crown and blushing boys in tow.