The Cleaning Frenzy Continues

Maybe it's the extra hour of sleep. It's like the new year - wait it IS the new year according to the Celtic calendar.

I even had an epiphany about my bowls that have been on the second shelf for seven and a half years. They are always hard to reach, especially when they're all clean and stacked high.

PUT. THEM. ON. THE. FIRST. SHELF. 

Whaaaaaa??????

Before

After

All I can say is - Duh!
And now I see the glasses and mugs order should be reversed on the second shelf because the mugs are used more. Talk about a creature of habit - the mugs went right back where they have been for seven and a half years.

Cleaned the ceiling fan and reversed the spin cycle using this ladder, a birthday present  last year from employers, even though they were not my employers at the time.

Very sturdy with wide steps and a handle

Fits in tiny space when folded

Having a small house I am NUTS about stuff that collapses (colanders, measuring cups) and fits into a small space.

*************************************************************************

Debra over at As I See It Now posed the question "What's On Your Refrigerator" a few days ago. Intriguing.
Here's what's on mine:

Front

The bowl postcard was sent to me by my friend E. who lives in New Mexico. The potter on the postcard is Betsy Williams. Her work is exquisite. E. is also an excellent potter and I have quite a few of her pieces.

The other is for a local artist I like a lot. There's a link to her website at the bottom of this blog.

Right side

That Paint Guest Room decree has been up there for about a year. Guess I'm ignoring it.

In case I forget

That is a picture of me from the Steve's BBQ days about a hundred years ago. I like it even though my left eye looks wonky. (and hello - pleated pants are not our friend!) The haircut was by a guy named Cedric who would come to your house.

 

See the ring on my right hand? That's so I'd know which hand was my right. Now I wear rings on both hands so I have to say in my head, I write with my right. 

Takes time and is why I need driving directives early in the game. 

***********************************************************************

Okay, I am fired up from caffeine and off to switch the glasses and mugs. 

D'oh!

Cleaning, De-Cluttering, and Other Adventures in Babysitting

Clutter and disorganization makes me anxious. Dust - not so much.

Let me 'splain.
Like my father, I'm:
introverted, cat oriented, a non-saver of both money and things, and of the clutter free persuasion.
My mother, true to the old maxim, is [was] the opposite:
extrovert, prefers dogs, a saver of both money and things, and a cleaner.

When I was living at home, when I told Mom I'd "cleaned" my room, she'd say "Oh, you mean you rearranged the furniture and threw stuff away."
Co-rrect.
The vacuum was hardly ever near my room. Dust? You mean get rid of the protective coating for my furniture? Oh hell no.
Right now there are dust bunnies the size of rottweilers under my bed and enough cat hair to make a new kitten - but unless I'm looking under there, (why would I do that?),
I don't care.
IT'S TIDY. Dammit.

My junk drawer is organized, thank you very much.
All the instruction/warranty books for my appliances are 3 hole punched and stored in a binder. (Hey, I heard that! No, they are not alphabetized, so shut up. THAT'S anal.).
But there's a layer of dust on all my furniture, the oven probably needs cleaning and I definitely need to vacuum.

All that to say, my mother and I have been at odds since my birth - because we are polar opposites in the clean vs. uncluttered war.

And so Friday, my inner Peter Walsh (I think I love him.) couldn't take it anymore and went over to Mom's to put things away.
I smuggled out 2 bags of crap...err, donations, threw away random pieces of flotsam and jetsam, including a can of pineapple chunks (which she took back out of the trash can, even though she has no way of opening it). Emptied out her dirty clothes hamper; found lots of treasures in there, none of which were dirty clothes.
Also discovered where all her shoes were hiding - in her carry on case. She's been wearing the same navy blue sling backs since December.

During all this she walked around and sighed.

She said she was cold; I suggested a long sleeved sweater and the following ensued for about 20 minutes:
Trying to put long sleeved sweater (LSS) on over the short sleeved sweater (SSS) she had on currently, not getting it over her head and walking around with just her arms in the LSS, shivering.
Trying to fold up the LSS, giving up and throwing it on the floor. Shivering.
Carrying the LSS sweater around and asking me what to do with it.
Trying again to put the LSS on over SSS.
More folding attempts.
Trying to hang up the LSS.
Finally I helped her take off the SSS and put the LSS on. She always gets mad when I do this, but seriously, what's a girl to do?!

One of the things I found in the hamper was a fabric jewelry travel case containing my dad's wedding ring and another ring. She took those out and put them back in over and over. Or she'd take them out, put the rings on the table and put the case away. Oy. Like the LSS, only with rings.

After I'd tortured her enough, we went to eat at Rick's Diner.
She shook a 1/2 teaspoon of salt in her hand and ate it. Then she was playing with the lit candle (they get kinda fancy at night) and acting like she was going to burn my lemon wedge or me.

A couple came in with their cute year old daughter, Mom said she wanted a sippy cup like hers.

Her chef salad came; she tried to eat it with a spoon (again). The utensil confusion is happening more. The other night she tried to cut her steak using two knives.

Guess that's just what happens when you take your five year old mom to dinner.

Holy Hoarder Batman!

July 20, 2008

My brother and his family, The Boy, and myself have taken on the huge task of having a garage sale for the remainder of Mom's stuff in FL. My sister in law is a garage sale maven, and we are her minions for the next week. Mom has no idea we're doing this. They're driving down from WI, The Boy from Tallahassee and I'm coming down from NC (trip # 5 in 4 months. I swear my car could do the drive by itself). And God love her, Susan G. is game too; she is a very good long-suffering friend. She comes up with Christmas on The Back Porch - genius idea.

Frankly, I think my Mom has some hoarding issues. The tendency was kept under control being in the military and moving every three years, but after Dad retired and they bought the house, it came back like kudzu.

Most of the guest room closet is filled with yarn and fabric and when paired with what was in the garage, it comes halfway out into the living floor. There are several unfinished afghans and lots of unfinished Barbie clothes. Boxes and boxes of patterns and notions.
Russ and Jill just happened onto the Quilter's Guild meeting at Kofe Haus, and then were told about another group knitting afghans for babies or cancer patients or some such, so we were able to donate all the fabric and yarn. Nice.
Good grief the candles! Most of them are unopened. Cleaning supplies was another thing she had multiple duplicates of. How many bottles of Toilet Duck (or variations thereof) does one need for two toilets?!

My sister decided she would take the china Dad got in Japan after all, so we ship that and the glassware that went with it to OR, which cost about $1000. Everything is covered with a film of nicotine, grease and dust. Yummy! Julie, the owner of the pack and ship place was very nice and gave us a discount because we packed much of it ourselves. On one of these trips Sam went with me and called me Puma; I don't know why it was so funny to her, but we both were laughing so hard we were crying.

The Light Bright Ceramic Xmas tree war rages on between my brother and sister, because Mom sent Russ the one she told Kay she could have. Maybe they can work out joint custody. Oy. Vey.

(Does my sister look like Jodie Foster or what?!)

Actually, I think this is great. We're all getting the things we have special memories of (except see above) without the trauma of actual death. But the one thing I really want, Mom's old SLR Minolta, is no where to be found. We find the instruction booklet but no camera. I wonder what happened to it.