Short and sweet today as I’m madly cleaning walls and wondering if I could throw half the contents of the house – or at least the toy boxes! – in a skip and be done with it. That’s right, it’s the night before tenants dread… we have a house inspection tomorrow.
Seriously, our property manager is lovely and we’ve been here a while and even though I know they’re only checking for maintenance issues I still have that moment of “Should I scrub the window tracks or is just cleaning the exhaust fans enough?” I did tell you all a couple of weeks ago that not a fan of cleaning… nothing has changed since then. Esmerelda the magic cleaning fairy is still missing, too. Damned fairies, so unreliable!
Oh well, think I’ll go have an early wine to get the taste of sweat and sugar soap out of my mouth. And if I was the type to place bets – which I’m not, my brother is far better at it than me! – then tomorrow I’ll be laughing at the time I put into cleaning versus how long the property manager is here!
Ever have those days where you really can’t be bothered? Everything is just too much effort and you’d far rather curl up in bed with a book and some raisin toast and laze the day away. It’s been one of those days here. Sadly there was no curling up in bed, nor was there any raisin toast. Instead it was the mad dash to pack lunchboxes for three people – and, to make it more interesting, one child takes one lunchbox, one child needs two lunchboxes to contain his vast amounts of food and the third child needs separate lunchboxes for morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea – and get them out the door by 8.15am.
After that it was the usual “top up the fruit and bread supplies” before heading home to several loads of washing. That was the sum total of my housework today – the floors have gone unvacuumed, the bathroom has gone unscrubbed, the house has not been spring cleaned… oh, well, I did admit last week that I wasn’t a spring cleaner anyway, right? I’ve done lots of little things but nothing terribly noticeable, and I’ve done a fabulous job of procrastinating about some work I need to get done by Thursday… but there are still about 45 hours before it’s due so it will be fine.
The thought of cooking dinner… ugh. And yet I didn’t want to spend money on horrible takeaway that doesn’t satisfy the stomach or the soul. Suddenly divine inspiration struck – or a ray of light pierced the cloud that was making the day look a bit gloomy – and I remembered that I had assembled and frozen a massive lasagne last month. We were having friends to dinner and I’d made two lasagnes and frozen one, as well as making a dairy free lasagne for my husband. Frozen (homemade) lasagne to the rescue… phew! The kids have demolished massive platefuls of it and there are leftovers for lunch tomorrow so I’m feeling pretty happy for a day that was really quite bland and boring… it turned out alright in the end.
I’m a big believer in bulk cooking, slow cooking, pressure cooking or whatever makes life easier. I like to buy steaks or chicken breasts and slice them up and marinate them then freeze it all flat in a ziplock bag to make a stirfry easier. I’ll make several lasagnes at a time so there is one in the freezer. I even make huge amounts of meatballs that are possibly even more amazing than the ones you get at Ikea and freeze them in portion sizes. Oh, and there’s always a loaf of bread in there… my kids can demolish a loaf between them over breakfast and lunch without anyone else getting a piece of bread so I buy four or five loaves at a time. Of course, one day when I get my much longed for Thermomix (oh my goodness, the dramas over the new release one at the moment!) I won’t need to freeze as much bread, I can just make up a batch of bread rolls or scrolls quicker than it would take me to walk to the shop and back. Dreams are free… but the Thermomix isn’t. One day… 🙂
It’s long been a family joke that Esmerelda the Magical Cleaning Fairy is missing in action and desperately needed. I’m not a big fan of cleaning… in fact I’m not a fan of cleaning at all. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not wallowing in 28 complex layers of filth here, but if I can avoid it then I will. Unfortunately for me it is now Spring and my Facebook feed is absolutely littered with posts about spring cleaning by my dear, darling and demented friends.
Fortunately for me I don’t do guilt well… and I am the best procrastinator around. That means that if I did ever get the guilts about my lack of spring cleaning I would manage to put it off until Spring has sprung out the window and we’re heading into summer and then it’s just too hot to get stuck into it. After all, who wants to be standing there on a 37 degree day with 98% humidity (and no air conditioning!) and decide that is the perfect day to sugar soap the walls? Not me!
So if I’ve ignored spring cleaning and summer cleaning then it’s autumn… but the joys of living in a place where summer is hot and humid means that autumn is still fantastic weather… like summer, but you aren’t breathing through a thick wet blanket… or like summer, but you don’t start sweating the instant you turn that cool shower off. Since we’ve just spent three months covered in sweat (or lightly shining if you’re one of those people who don’t sweat but just glow… I’m not, but I pretend!) there’s no way you want to get right into heavy duty cleaning and start sweating again.
Then it’s winter which means technically that it’s cold and wet and you can’t wash walls because they might not dry. Never mind that here we had the mildest of winters to the point where we ate outside most nights and quite often wandered around in bare feet (on tiles!) and in singlet tops at 3am. Can’t risk those walls not drying!
See, I just managed to talk myself out of spring cleaning for another year… yay! Of course, if Esmerelda the Cleaning Fairy is around and wants to visit and work her magic I won’t say no. I’ll even point out the bits I don’t get to as often – I’m helpful like that. But I have a sneaking suspicion that either someone else is holding her ransom, I’ve sat on her and squished her completely or she’s a figment of my imagination.