Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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0 Comments:Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Sunday, December 07, 2003 Yippee! Knitters Review Forums are back up. Congratulations to Queen Bee Clara for pulling the all-nighter off. I hope, sugar, you get looooots of sleep now. And the answer to yesterday’s question is YES!! The house is clean, the pile of laundry is only 4 feet high and it’s a sunshiny day. (yeah, I don’t have a drier). The Darlings are going to be cutting firewood today so I not only is the house pristine and BE YOU TEE FUL, but I get it all to myself!! O wicked delight. Hmmm. this sounds ominously like a segue into one of those “You know you need to get a life when you thrill over sitting in a clean living room” or perhaps “You know you’re a slob when cleaning the place up is cause for celebration” or maybe “You know your brain has atrophied when you’d rather have a sparkling kitchen than go to a party" But that’s not really true. This joy, the savor of a tidy living space - is a familiar old friend - akin to pulling out your summer clothes after the long bleak gray days of February and March. It’s very similar, in fact, to the changing of any of the seasons. Fall does tend to seep into winter around here, and summer can catch you unawares as well, but that special day, when you know it is smack on winter and not autumn, is an energizing day for me. My house is very warm - both in color and in temperature - for we heat with wood and the glow pulsing from the stove window enhances the feeling of coziness it’s actual BTU capacity produces. I enjoy this house they way a dog enjoys a bed, or a pony will shiver and roll in grass when it’s let out to pasture. I savor it. BD designed and built (as in with his own hands) the house and I have always thought the rooms were particularly comforting to be in. He has delightful theories - such as - all conversations take place in 10 square feet so rooms should be multiples of 10 square feet. And he also told me he designed the proportions using the Fibonachi numbers. “Huh?” “The same dimensions as the Parthenon”. Lord love him. That’s just the sort of thing he’d think of doing. But there is more to the clean-house-delight than just my meager 2 hours of hustle and bustle. This is a country house - a real old-time country house, but without servants. Unless you count me as the servant - and Sheryl, every other week for a couple of hours. It’s country in that not too much separates us from critters. Spiders and mice in particular. Competition for living space between them and us is fierce. The original plan was for Sheryl and me to spend yesterday morning thoroughly gutting the kitchen and tossing out everything selected by critters as dwelling places. Unfortunately I’d forgotten about the Santa Breakfast and we had to cancel. We’ll get it done in January - but it did mean that whatever appearance of a deep clean the kitchen would have this holiday season was going to have to be done by me - and so probably it wouldn’t even look very clean. Ahh, but, as life is woven out of many threads, to form a rich tapestry of cause and effect, BD is once again on his quest for gallons of hard cider. LD and I neither seek it nor do we believe he is ever very successful, but it is common for him to purchase unpasturized cider in large quantities and to dot them about the house trying to get them to turn hard. (The nay-sayers think it merely turns to vinegar and are secretly amused when the hopeful enthusiastically sips that nasty sour stuff). Usually half of the gallons just go bad on the back porch, so this year he arranged to have a friend deep freeze some for him. So far, every jug he has thawed out has leaked - but so far the leakage has been in easy to clean places. Alas for BD, but hooray for me, the leak on Friday night was on top of the refrigerator. On top and behind and in front and all over the kitchen. Several hours of hard scrubbing were needed to get back to square one - and in the process, my dearest BD gave the kitchen at least the look of a deep clean. He, on the other hand, was full of tales of discovery, of the riches unearthed when he pulled out the refrigerator. You don’t want to know and I am mighty glad I wasn’t present. It was a veritable tomb of trash and a testament to my utter slobishness. Sigh. Thank goodness it’s done, and thank something greater than goodness that I didn’t have to do it. All this means that today, my time belongs to me. I shall be spinning a good portion of the day, and knitting a wee bit. Or maybe something else - it’s just so much fun to have a whole day with no obligations attached to it. Like having money with no bills to pay. And early this evening there is the first of the Christmas parties and the community chorus concert afterwards, so no cooking for this gal. The split pea soup is on the back of the stove (bubbled away while I did the whirlwind job on the house). Lawsee! I’m gonna become an absolute sloth at this rate. posted by Bess | 4:45 PM |
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