Even though snow is falling at the end of March, we feel that old primordial urge to Spring clean. The Crankee Yankee and I decided we would do the following:
- Vacuum the rugs and floor
- Clean the kitchen counter tops
- Clean the stove top, burners, lift the lid and clean under there
- Wash the kitchen and bathroom floors
- Put the new kitchen cart together
So, off we went. The Crankee Yankee vacuumed the rugs and the floors (this after picking up about a hundred cat toys and moving all the cat furniture temporarily off the floor), and I got going on the kitchen counters. Then I tackled the stove. Let’s just say that the Crankee Yankee and I have decided that cleaning the stove once every seven years is probably not something we want to wait that long to do again. More on that later.
The Crankee Yankee had brought home a fabulous kitchen cart; thick, heavy bamboo top, three sturdy wire shelves underneath for all our pots and pans, and made from strong and beautiful bronze metal. We have at least two bottlenecks in our kitchen, the biggest one is when we both need the side board. So this kitchen cart/portable sideboard is perfect, and it liberated real estate on the top of the stove.
However–you know how it is when you get just one new thing: everything else in the house looks like a poor relation. So that sparked our cleaning frenzy–as if that would somehow make the rest of the house look better (well, cleaner, anyway). As the Crankee Yankee vacuumed, I changed the sheets, scrubbed the kitchen counter tops, the microwave and the kitchen table. The stove, however, was a showstopper. The metal pans under each burner had virtually disintegrated into metal flakes. Ancient grease had built up under the stove top, and every surface needed some serious attention. Even the walls near the stove had splatters.
As I was scrubbing and cursing our own procrastination, I said, “How can we LIVE like this?” I turned to the Crankee Yankee and said, “We live like tree-dwelling, knee-walking, knuckle-dragging troglodytes!” He agreed, but also said that we were certainly capable of cleaning up our act, not to mention our house. All the while the new and pristine kitchen cart just stood there, looking disapprovingly at us. I muttered to it, ‘just you wait–you think this can’t happen to you?‘
At the end of the day, when we both sat around exhausted, me on the floor to get the kinks out of my back, we said at the same time: “We need drinks. Big drinks!” But the house does look a lot better. (We don’t look any better, but at least the house does.) And the cats really don’t care one way or the other. Once I re-scattered their toys for them and re-catnipped the cat furniture, they were happy.
As near-future old people, our days are filled thusly: the Crankee Yankee (retired) works on our house; repairing, renovating, and replacing old stuff. He also does a lot of work for his model railroad club, and is always ready to help anyone who needs it. I (semi-retired) work part-time and have a 145 mile round-trip to work, plus I write daily for this blog, make jewelry for my Etsy store (firstname.lastname@example.org), and I do most of the day-to-day chores such as laundry, dishes, mending, dusting. We both cook.
However, we think that what we really need is a wife. You know, just for all that daily work I can’t/won’t get to.
(Everything except the bedroom….)