Housework really is not my forte.
I am pretty sure that I could write a very comprehensive 'Sluts Charter'
I do cleaning only because I have to do it...and it has been known for himself to ask if there is a pending Royal visit if he catches me cleaning the windows or with a duster in my hand.(the cheek of the man)
I am to cleaning, what Arthur Scargill is to diplomacy.
People only notice cleaning when it hasn't been done...and 'Dust me' is written on the sideboard.
Not for me the donkey stoning of the front step.
Housework is like stringing beads with no knot in the thread...just when you think you have finished it all needs doing again.
I can find far more interesting things to do with my time.
Like Friday, for instance...the bathroom was crying out to be given the once over.
Looking out of the window the sun was shining...I had two lines of washing drying(see...I DO do some house stuff) and I had itchy feet.
I did not want to be stuck inside with a bottle of Cilit Bang and a cloth....windolene and a cloth.
I wanted to be off somewhere.
Himself was going in to Blackburn. He asked if I wanted to go with him....I hate Blackburn, Loathe it. Detest it.So I did not want to go there...but he could drop me off and I would get on a bus and go further afield...though I did not know where.
It would not be Preston...I have been going there quite often and I am fed up of it.
The market is pousy and the shops have been flung over the centre like currants in a bun.
So he dropped me off...I went to see what buses were going where.
Did I want to go to Bolton...or maybe Bury??
I have not been to Bury market for over 18 months.
Prior to losing Ma we went every Wednesday...to the market..ham shank from Katsouris...a hog roast butty for Ma.
Yes....Bury was the place to go.
So I hopped aboard the 481.....thinking that in less than an hour I would be perusing the market.
Yes, well it was not quite like that.
I did not realise that the bus took a scenic route.
It went via Belthorn, Haslingden, Rawtenstall, Shuttleworth and landed in Bury an hour and twenty two minutes later.
So a bum numbing ride... but still preferable to cleaning the bathroom.
I actually enjoyed going over the tops to Haslingden and at some point I may just get this bus and go to Belthorn to take pictures...or go to the antique place at Holden Wood...and have afternoon tea in the tea-rooms there.
I had an hour walking round the market and then got on the bus and came home...having had a pleasant time....and bought a 'still warm' ham shank...himself was very pleased at that...he could see him having a nice 'pick' of that.
Anyway, back to housework....I bought a 'Miracle Brush' to take cat hair off the stairs carpet.
All four of the cats like to lie in various positions on the stairs steps...so the stairs need a good going over to remove the moulted fur.
This Miracle brush is no such thing...yes it does remove the cat hair, but it takes a whole lot of effort to do it and invariably I am dripping with sweat after the exertion.
Today I removed enough fur to fully clothe a good sized moggie....not with the 'Miracle Brush', but with a silicone oven glove......this glove is robust but too clumsy to use for its original purpose and I ALMOST threw it out( I did say almost).
It was lurking at the bottom of one of my kitchen drawers and I was sat there idly musing if it would be any good at getting the hair off the stairs.
Today I tried it and it is blooming brilliant....so it might just be the miracle brush that gets the heave ho...because the oven glove will be used from now on.
I spotted this poem by Rose Milligan and it struck a cord with me...here is a woman after my own heart.
Here it goes...
Dust If You Must
by Rose Milligan
Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
so now I have an excuse.
I am pretty sure that I could write a very comprehensive 'Sluts Charter'
I do cleaning only because I have to do it...and it has been known for himself to ask if there is a pending Royal visit if he catches me cleaning the windows or with a duster in my hand.(the cheek of the man)
I am to cleaning, what Arthur Scargill is to diplomacy.
People only notice cleaning when it hasn't been done...and 'Dust me' is written on the sideboard.
Not for me the donkey stoning of the front step.
Housework is like stringing beads with no knot in the thread...just when you think you have finished it all needs doing again.
I can find far more interesting things to do with my time.
Like Friday, for instance...the bathroom was crying out to be given the once over.
Looking out of the window the sun was shining...I had two lines of washing drying(see...I DO do some house stuff) and I had itchy feet.
I did not want to be stuck inside with a bottle of Cilit Bang and a cloth....windolene and a cloth.
I wanted to be off somewhere.
Himself was going in to Blackburn. He asked if I wanted to go with him....I hate Blackburn, Loathe it. Detest it.So I did not want to go there...but he could drop me off and I would get on a bus and go further afield...though I did not know where.
It would not be Preston...I have been going there quite often and I am fed up of it.
The market is pousy and the shops have been flung over the centre like currants in a bun.
So he dropped me off...I went to see what buses were going where.
Did I want to go to Bolton...or maybe Bury??
I have not been to Bury market for over 18 months.
Prior to losing Ma we went every Wednesday...to the market..ham shank from Katsouris...a hog roast butty for Ma.
Yes....Bury was the place to go.
So I hopped aboard the 481.....thinking that in less than an hour I would be perusing the market.
Yes, well it was not quite like that.
I did not realise that the bus took a scenic route.
It went via Belthorn, Haslingden, Rawtenstall, Shuttleworth and landed in Bury an hour and twenty two minutes later.
So a bum numbing ride... but still preferable to cleaning the bathroom.
I actually enjoyed going over the tops to Haslingden and at some point I may just get this bus and go to Belthorn to take pictures...or go to the antique place at Holden Wood...and have afternoon tea in the tea-rooms there.
I had an hour walking round the market and then got on the bus and came home...having had a pleasant time....and bought a 'still warm' ham shank...himself was very pleased at that...he could see him having a nice 'pick' of that.
Anyway, back to housework....I bought a 'Miracle Brush' to take cat hair off the stairs carpet.
All four of the cats like to lie in various positions on the stairs steps...so the stairs need a good going over to remove the moulted fur.
This Miracle brush is no such thing...yes it does remove the cat hair, but it takes a whole lot of effort to do it and invariably I am dripping with sweat after the exertion.
Today I removed enough fur to fully clothe a good sized moggie....not with the 'Miracle Brush', but with a silicone oven glove......this glove is robust but too clumsy to use for its original purpose and I ALMOST threw it out( I did say almost).
It was lurking at the bottom of one of my kitchen drawers and I was sat there idly musing if it would be any good at getting the hair off the stairs.
Today I tried it and it is blooming brilliant....so it might just be the miracle brush that gets the heave ho...because the oven glove will be used from now on.
I spotted this poem by Rose Milligan and it struck a cord with me...here is a woman after my own heart.
Here it goes...
Dust If You Must
by Rose Milligan
Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
so now I have an excuse.
