Since It Seems I Will Never Work Again...

I am never going to have a real job again.

I have been out of work since the school year ended in June and it is now January. I have fretted, sighed, applied, and suffered. Now I accept the painful truth that my new job is going to be housekeeper.

So on this cloudy, open-window-warm Monday, I have a To-Do list.

- mop the downstairs
- laundry
- change sheets
- clean bathroom
- vacuum bedroom
- bake something

In my head I am formulating a rant about how my mother NEVER taught me how to do any of those things and now McNASA and I are suffering the consequences. It's coming. I swear.

And Now I Breathe

And I exhale.

Three months of 14 credits worth of grad classes, weekly 500 mile commutes, and extensive travelling by McNASA have come to a close. I finally feel as though I can breathe. Nothing hanging over my head, no legal-pad sized to-do lists, no more dinner from a can!

So what now? So much was left undone while we were gallivanting across the Eastern Seaboard. Laundry has piled up, dust has built colonies under the radiators, and I don't remember the las time I cleaned the bathroom. Thanks be that Christmas is not at our house this year!

I have tried the FlyLady program, but I am afraid that I couldn't stomach the tchotcky aspect of it all. Cutesy names for dusting and videos of shined sinks set to music do not inspire me to tidy my "Hot Zones". What follows is a list of steps from my pick for bastion of homemaking, Anna at Pleasant View Schoolhouse:


Simple Guidelines for Deep Cleaning One Room at a Time:

•Deep breath.
•Put away everything that's out of place, throw away trash.
•Do anything that's going to make a mess, like trimming plants.
•Collect loose items and set them outside the door so they're not in the way.
•Can anything go in the laundry (curtains, rugs), or dishwasher? Do it.
•Dust walls and ceiling with a long duster. Dust everything else within reach with a microfiber cloth. Wipe baseboards and quarter-rounds.
•Vacuum, vacuum, vacuum.
•Vacuum upholstered furniture.
•Get a bucket of hot, soapy, fragrant water. Wipe everything that needs it--edges of floors where the mop doesn't get, light switches, any painted walls with fingerprints or smears. Then use bucket to:
•Mop the floor.
•Polish furniture with lemon oil.
•Clean mirrors and glass.
•Put everything back.

Number one room for me? The living room, where McNASA and I camp out whenever we're here together. Then the bathroom, then the kitchen.

After a quick lunch of clementines with walnuts, stilton cheese, and balsamic vinegar (seriously, trust me it's great), I am going to try and put this place back together.

Oy.

Homesickness

Things that I Miss About Baltimore

1. The Red Canoe
2. Zeke's Coffee
3. Belvedere Market
4. The Farmer's Market
5. Golden West's breakfast creation the Bismark (essentially fried dough folded over and filled with blueberries. Oh. Man.)
6. The beautiful houses in Roland Park
7. The Charles Theatre
8. The Urbanite

Right now, I miss the Urbanite the most. If I had any technical saavy, or friends with technical skills, I would start my own similar magazine about Pittsburgh. Because Pittsburgh seems like it might be a cool little city. NOT as cool as Baltimore, mind you, because nothing could be, but nice in its own right.

Oh, imaginary readers...do YOU know how to start a magazine?

Is there such a thing as a rubber glove fairy?

This morning I went outside to smoke my cigarette and there, behind the "butt bucket", were two sets of rubber gloves and a Ziploc baggie of...um...frankly, I have no idea what it was. Cuttle? Dog treats? Small bricks of hash? Does hash even exist any more?

I sent McNASA a photo of it, asking if he'd stashed something quickly. The answer is no. So now I am left to wonder what in the hell is being hidden on my side porch. And to wonder who thought it was smart to hide something next to an ashtray.

NPR rules, even with lower standards

Heard during an NPR story about flu vaccines: "perhaps there are just more really old people". This makes me laugh. "Really old people" seems so out of place on Morning Edition. Bob Edwards would have NEVER let that happen.

Truly Awesome

While making my weekly pilgrimage from Southwesternburgh to Baltimore, I passed the greatest thing ever: a nun driving an RV. It looked like a mobile STD testing station (and, since it appeared to be on its way to Baltimore, that makes sense). I texted McNASA and he suggested that it was a mobile convent-- "Get thee to a nunnery...in comfort and style!"

Awesome.

In Which the Dust has Settled and Now Must be Swept Up...

We've moved! McNASA and I are more or less established in a beautiful three bedroom Dutch Colonial on a charming street in Southwesternburgh. It was a flip house that we are currently renting (although I think we should plan on buying it...we'll see); there are dozens of windows (our old apartment had two), a fireplace, and little charming touches that make me giddy when I think about them.

Seriously. I was standing in our kitchen last week and the windows were all open and the coffee was brewing and the breeze came through and I squealed like an eight year-old with a new doll house. I love having a home. I love lighting candles and plumping pillows and standing in the foyer, admiring the plenty.

What I don't love is the cleaning. After living in an overcrowded three room apartment where cleaning just felt like a watse of time, I have all of this space. So much space.

And space, that bastard, has a penchant for dust.

So I've taken three weeks to hope that housekeeping magically happens in the night (aka, I can wear down McNASA and he'll do it), but it's looking dubious. So I have armed myself: Organic Housekeeping. The Art and Science of Keeping House. Mrs. Meyers. And a heck of a lot of cheap and pretty washcloths. I've joined FlyLady with a Buddy (the renown Homemaker/career gal/Super Wife, Jude), and promised McNASA.

So, here it goes. Please keep the good thought.