Rearranging Furniture

...is apparently my new hobby.

I would never have figured this out if it weren't for our Home Teachers commenting that every month when they come over something is different. Sometimes it's drastic, sometimes small. This month it was simply moving the couch to the other side of the room, moving one lamp, and putting the tall red bookshelf next to the other bookshelves. I've never gotten so many compliments on an appliance until I put my lava lamp/floor lamp in the living room instead of the bedroom. Not that it works anymore, but people still think it's the coolest.

I also enjoy rearranging my bookshelves, though not nearly that often. I am extremely tempted to arrange them by color, but then I wouldn't be able to find anything. This is apparently in vogue right now, but Peg thought of it first: "Perhaps you remember books by their color, as a friend of mine does. She thinks, 'Oh yes, that pink book, by what's-his-name...' So she keeps as like-colored books together, which results in some improbable shelfmates, with The Rubaiyat next to The Complete Dog Book. It works for her, though, and the blocks of color are pretty." Page 21.

Hand Wash Only?

If you must machine wash things that say "hand wash only" on the label, just make sure to use a cold cycle, and for heaven's sake don't put them in the dryer. (But if you forget just once, I doubt any permanent harm will be done, unless you're dealing with something really temperamental, and why would you own something like that, anyway?) My, sweet, dear husband accidentally put one of my "hand wash only" things (one I routinely put in the washer with no problem) in the dryer and it came out noticeably (but not significantly) smaller. It is still entirely wearable, but I doubt another go would end so blissfully.

Motivation

I had a bout of random housekeeping last night worth mentioning. I'm not sure what brought it on, other than the fact that they're threatening to replace our carpets soon. It's not a bad thing, just a hassle, but I figured it's the perfect opportunity to rearrange our furniture. Using a tape measure and a calculator (read: my husband's brain) I figured out that we can actually squeeze another bookshelf into our tiny apartment just by moving the desk to the bedroom.

So, somehow this translated to me cleaning like a madwoman until all hours last night. They haven't even started on our building yet, but I felt the pull of that eventual promise of having to move stuff like a werewolf feels the moon. (Can you tell I've been reading Mercy Thompson novels?)

My great challenge in getting things done (and in life at large) is figuring out what motivates me and how. Simply promising myself a treat after I do the dishes doesn't work, but knowing that I'm going to be moving furniture in a couple of weeks prompts me to finally throw out all that old packing material and bubble wrap I've been saving in our hall closet, as well as generally straightening up. (Being a horrendous pack rat doesn't help matters at all.) You can see the floor now!

I think that's a clue. Eventually we'll have to expose the entire floor, so I clean off the floor. Ice cream and dishes don't have much to do with each other, but wanting to bake something that requires counter space can give me the edge I need to get myself to wash the dishes. (Not very often, though. In fact, having a bowl of ice cream after I do the dishes means either there's at least one dish I will leave on the counter, spoiling the effect, or it demotivates me enough that I don't do the dishes.)

Motivation is a very important question for the Random Housekeeper. We tend to think too much to be really good at just mindlessly cleaning when it suits us. "If I put this skirt over the chair instead of hanging it up in the closet," we think collectively to ourselves, "I'll save enough energy to be able to go shopping later, where I'll buy another skirt to hang over the chair." You know what I mean. We're bargainers. We just have to learn how to make sure cleaning gets the upper hand. Sometimes. When we want it to.

Question for readers: What motivates you? How does knowing that change the way you do housecleaning (or anything else you don't like to do)?

This isn't rocket science, it's a billion dollar industry who only wants your money and will sacrifice your sanity to get it; or, Don't Be So OCD

I don't normally watch TV, and that's mostly because I don't own one. But the other day I was in the dentist's office and they were playing one of those morning talk shows on the big screen TV in the waiting room that lets you know exactly what that big check you're going to write in an hour is paying for. Today's inane chatter by people who don't know what they're talking about and don't expect their audience to know the difference was centered around the subject of house cleaning, and it made me remember why I started this blog in the first place (and also reminded me that I hadn't posted in over a month).

Don't get me wrong; there were some good tips given, for instance, washing your kid's toys in the washing machine or dishwasher, depending, or freezing them to kill germs if they can't handle either one of those. But unfortunately those kinds of ideas were in the minority; most of the program (hosted by a woman "expert", my inner feminist would like to point out)(accompanied by a male host, my inner fairness referee would like to also add) consisted of appalling advice such as "How to disinfect your garbage can."

Excuse me?

I was always under the impression that the purpose of a garbage can was to put garbage in; and I further held the view that garbage consisted of things like dirty diapers, rotting meat and vegetable peels (apologies to the faint of stomach). I was further mistaken in believing that one could put a garbage bag or some kind of liner in the can so as to avoid the smells and germs and general yuckiness from sticking around after the garbage got taken out. I was also much chagrined to discover that the proper garbage can should be some kind of expensive looking metal (probably silver plate) rather than cheap plastic that is easily replaceable.

Thank you, ABC America, for correcting me.

This sort of thing makes me mad: perpetuating the stereotype (despite protests to the contrary) that stay at home mothers (or any other kind, for that matter) have unlimited amounts of time and energy with which to perform household tasks of a kind that are only important to talk show hosts who all probably have maids and whose kids go to private schools and wear clothes from Gymboree and Baby Gap and who never get dirty in the first place. And meth users.

Movie Therapy: The Princess Bride

Sometimes I just need a movie to help me feel more like a person and less like a dishrag. My current mood dictates what kind of movie this will be: sometimes all I need is a good cry and an on-screen cry-partner, and sometimes I need to laugh until I snort soda out my nose (very painful, that). But there is one movie that will always cheer me up, no matter what mood I’m in: The Princess Bride. I know not everyone is in love with this movie, but if you’re one of those people, ask yourself: do I dislike it because it’s a genuinely bad movie in my opinion, or do I dislike it because of all the hype it gets? Because let me tell you, the hype is accurate. Even better is the fact that the book which the movie is based on is just as funny as the movie. Probably because the author of the book also wrote the screenplay for the movie, it is one of the few instances in cinema history where the book and the movie are on equal footing quality-wise.

What are some of your favorite pick-me-up movies?

Husbands, the use of

If you have something heavy that needs lifting, for goodness’ sake wait till your husband gets home and have him do it. Then ooh and ah appropriately at his superior strength so he doesn’t feel so put upon. If you simply have to move it now, remember to lift with your knees, and if it’s high up, don’t be afraid to get a chair or stool to stand on, or even the counter if you have to. Husbands are also very useful for opening jars, etc., and keep in mind that the ego trip you’re giving him by allowing him to use his muscles is good for his manly psyche. One of the pieces of advice my mother gave me before my impending marriage was that men have fragile egos, which need constant stroking and building. I have found this to be true, and I have also found that said stroking and building requires little extra effort. (In the example above, it requires refraining from effort, which always seems like a good plan to me.)

T-shirt surgery

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce a little thing I like to call... T-shirt surgery. Got a shirt that fits you like a potato sack? Got one that you can't fit over your head? Don't want to throw them away or cut them up for rags because they have a cool logo, or have sentimental value? Never fear! They can be wearable! All it requires is a little patience, some sewing, and a lot of creativity.

Allow me to demonstrate.

I had a shirt given to me by my niece for Christmas. It was a beautiful shirt, and she had picked it out all by herself! The only problem was, it was way too small. It was past uncomfortable and into the range of tourniquet. I couldn't wear it. But giving it away was out of the question, and I didn't really want to just throw it into my t-shirt quilt. (Which is another story, and will be told another time.) I had the idea of making it into a halter top, since the main problem was the sleeves, but I didn't want to cut up this great shirt willy-nilly. Then, as I was idly googling at work one day (which I do far too often), I came across an entire online community of t-shirt surgeons. The ideas flying around were amazing! The projects were beautiful! The shirts fit! I was amazed as before-picture after before-picture of girls in gigantic or ugly t-shirts turned into after-pictures of girls wearing cute, punky, rockin' or just plain awesome shirts.

I had to try it.

Utilizing no less than 3 websites, two tutorials, and lots of praying, I went to work. Adding side panels allowed me room to breath, and allowed the shirt to actually fit over my hips. Replacing the sleeves added to the cuteness and allowed the blood to flow to my arms. I even managed to keep the picture mostly intact. I made some mistakes, and I will now measure everything five times and cut everything too big, just in case, but it turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. Check it out!

Before

After

Thank you, t-shirt surgery, thank you. You saved my baby.

(Admittedly, most t-shirt surgeons are into the punk scene, since band shirts are the most common source of large, baggy t-shirts with awesome logos, but even if you don't swing that way, a lot of the ideas one the sites below can be utilized toward more cutesy or chic ends. It's all up to you! The best part about t-shirt surgery, to me? If you play it right, all the hard work has been done before! You don't have to hem it, or insert buttons, or anything too difficult, unless you really want to. You don't have to buy fabric- it's all there, already. A lot of these craftsters even hand sew all their work! No sewing machine necessary! This is truly a more democratic approach to crafts.)

(I still prefer a sewing machine.)


Here are some awesome links:
http://community.livejournal.com/t_shirt_surgery
http://www.whatthecraft.com/

Have any more links to t-shirt surgery or craft sites? Have any great ideas for a surgery yourself? Want to borrow my sewing machine? Feel free to leave a comment below. (And, no, you can't borrow my sewing machine. Unless we happen to live in the same apartment complex. Then we'll talk.)

Use it up and wear it out, make it do or do without

I grew up hearing the equivalent of this maxim. I couldn't buy new shoes until my old ones were unwearable. I had to eat my leftovers before I could cook something new. This led to a somewhat unhealthy attitude, namely, that I was not worthy of nice things at all, ever. This was not my mother's intention. This is not what any one expects you to think when they tell you to be frugal. But I think a lot of us end up this way anyway. We feel guilty when we buy expensive things, and vow to make up for it in other ways, as though splurging on anything is a sin. This must stop!

You are worth that expensive dress that makes you feel like a princess and flatters your every curve! You are worth a gourmet meal when you can't face another night of Hamburger Helper! You don't need to feel guilty about buying things that make you feel good. The only problem comes when this happens as a matter of course, instead of on occasion. Eating out every night or buying a hundred dresses is not what I'm talking about. And I think you realize that.

This attitude of "I'm worth it!" applies to everything. In my current situation, I have to watch my money very carefully. (This probably describes the situation most of us find ourselves in.) I have to decide what is worth spending money on, what I can skimp on, and what I can do without. For me, the ten cents or so I save by buying garbage bags without drawstrings is not worth the aggravation of having to wrestle a garbage bag into submission, which invariably involves me touching the contents of the bag in some way. (Ick!) For you, however, that ten cents might give you more peace of mind than the bags give you aggravation, and so it would make sense to skimp in that area. The point is, don't be afraid to spend money on things you think are important, even if others might think they are frivolous. I know people who are horrified by the amount of money I spend on bras, but considering how much time I spend in them, and how much they affect my posture, which in turns affects my total well-being, I consider the quality such money buys to be not only worth it, but essential. I've worn cheap bras. They make me unhappy. And I see no reason why being poor should mean I have to be unhappy.

Covers

"Don't cover things up unless it's absolutely necessary. It just means you'll have two things to take care of and keep clean instead of one."
-Peg Bracken, The I Hate to Housekeep Book, page 15

I hate to say it, but this is one of the few things I actually disagree with Saint Peg about. The principle behind it is sound, but I’ve found that some covers are easier to wash than what they cover. For me, it is so much easier to throw the rug in front of the kitchen sink in the wash than to wipe up the linoleum, but this is probably because most of what gets spilled on my floor is water, which is a cinch to just swipe the rug over with my foot. I don’t even have to bend over. But for some of you, it might be a lot more bearable to sop up a spill than to wash a rug. Whatever works for you is great. But make sure it’s easier than the alternative. Even though Saint Peg advises against them, I prefer covers in a lot of cases, such as tablecloths, placemats, etc., since doing the laundry once a week seems like a better use of my time than scrubbing at stains on tables or counters. I sometimes wish I had some sort of cover for the stove, since it invariably gets covered in grease stains, which are my least favorite thing in the whole world to clean. The point is, if covering it makes it easier to clean, do so.

(But she was right about the toaster cover. I've never made a piece of dusty toast either.)

How to Do a Lot of Things at Once

"Let us say you feel it's important, for some reason, that tomorrow you must make five-dozen cookies, wash and iron the bedroom curtains, write a long, chatty letter to the family, and shorten a skirt, which is a frolicsome Monday for you, but there it is.

"Now here's where the efficiency experts say, Make a list! Then, with a high-hearted feeling of accomplishment, you cross off each job, one by one, as you get it done.

"Of course, that's one way. But for the random housekeep, it seldom works too well. Often you get such a feeling of virtue from merely making the list that you don't feel compelled to do any of the things on it.

"No, you need a bigger burr under your bustle.

"So. The night before, as you're going to sleep, you visualize the results you aim to achieve: the family letter written, the cookies made and packed, and so on.

"Then, next morning, you forget whatever your fourth grade teacher told you about finishing one job before starting another, and you start all four projects at once.

"You stamp and address the envelope, and write a paragraph or so of the letter.

"You sift the dry ingredients for the cookies.

"You slide the curtains off the rods, onto a sullen heap on the floor.

"You set up the sewing machine, and wind the right thread into the bobbin, and you set up the iron and the ironing board.

"And now you're royally stuck. You've brought yourself to the point of no return. You'd feel a little foolish about rehanging the curtains without washing them. You certainly can't unsift the dry ingredients. You're definitely not about to waste all that good bobbin work. And there is the desk, with the letter well started, addressed, stamped-

"You must forge ahead, that's all, and, often as not, you do."

The I Hate to Housekeep Book, by Peg Bracken, page 106

Freezers and Refrigerators, Part IV

"If you live in a stormy neck of the woods, with the power going on and off like fireflies, you'd better keep your freezer good and full. Then, if the power goes off, the food will stay frozen for forty-eight hours, which gives even the most sluggish repair crew the chance to get moving. If your freezer is only half full, things will thaw in twenty-four hours."

The I Hate to Housekeep Book, by Peg Bracken, page 94

Freezers and Refrigerators, Part III

"If you're still awash with Christmas cookies, come mid-January, you can stack them in waxed cardboard milk cartons, seal the tops, and freeze them. They'll probably taste better in March.

"But don't ever feel too guilty because you haven't many goodies in your freezer or your refrigerator. Remember, when you keep specialties around all the time they cease to be special and become staples. And remember way back when little children though an ice cream cone was a treat?" The I Hate to Housekeep Book, by Peg Bracken, page 93-94

Freezers and Refrigerators, Part II

"If the members of your family have strongly individual tastes, or, to put it another way, are absolutely loathesome to feed, a freezer can simplify things.

"For instance, if someone likes salt-risen bread or pumpernickel and the others won't touch it, you can keep several sorts of bread frozen, if there's room left around the clothes. Frozen bread thaws so fast it's no bother. (And it's one of the few things you can refreeze without hurting it.) Just drop the frozen slices into the toaster and toast. Or, if you want to serve it untoasted, and you're hysterically anxious to thaw it out, you may hold a hot steam iron over each piece." The I Hate to Housekeep Book, by Peg Bracken, page 93

Regarding a Previous Post

Regarding this post: I really only shared that quote for humor purposes only. I am not in favor criminal activities (unless they don't hurt anyone). I never intended to try it, or anyone else to try it. But then I got an email from my mother, informing me that one of the wedding thank-yous I had sent out a week before had been returned to her- I put her address as the return one because it's a permanent one, whereas I don't intend to stay at this address for very long- because it lacked an address, or even a stamp. I thought nothing of this, until my husband pointed out that the letter had essentially been delivered from one state to another, with no postage.

It works!

Though, you probably shouldn't try it at home. You may not get driven away in a paddy-wagon, but it's probably still illegal.

Freezers and Refrigerators, Part I

Saint Peg has so much to say about freezers and refrigerators, and so much of it still applies forty years later, that I had to quote her, but I also had to do it in installments. Here is the first one: "A good thing to do with your freezer is to keep your sneakers in it, on hot summer days. Wash the pair you're not wearing in the washer, dry them in the dryer, then freeze them in cellophane bags. When you finally put your fresh-frozen sneakers on, they'll keep your feet cool for a couple of hours, even in very hot weather. (Bras, girdles and underpants feel better, too, if you keep them refrigerated. Not frozen, though- they'd be too stiff.)"

The I Hate to Housekeep Book, by Peg Bracken, page 93

The U.S. Mail

"When you're out of correspondence envelopes, or don't want to buy any, you can mail the paper you wrote on. Write only on one side, fold the paper in thirds, and seal the open edges with any sort of tape. Then you address and stamp the outside surface, and the Post Office will accept it for first class mailing.

"You can get by without stamps, too, for in-town mailings. Just reverse the positions of your friend's address and your own return address, and omit the stamp. Then the mailman will return the letter to your friend for postage. Next, a big paddy-wagon will drive up and take you away to the federal pokey, for defrauding the U.S. mails. Thus, you've saved five cents, plus board and room for the next twenty years."
The I Hate to Housekeep Book, by Peg Bracken, page 87-88

This doesn't have anything to do with anything, really, it just made me laugh.

To soap or not to soap

Can I make a confession? Will you lose all confidence in me if I admit this? I don't use soap very often. Water and elbow grease seem to work in a lot of cases. When I do use soap, it is something of a last resort, when scrubbing just isn't enough, or when germs are a factor. The only things I really seem to use soap for on a regular basis are hands, clothes, and dishes (especially things touched by raw meat). Basically, anything that will handle food or touch skin on a regular basis. My mother was much the same way, and my brother and I didn't get any more colds than anyone else. What I'm trying to say is, your house doesn't have to be sterilized. You're not competing with hospitals. No major surgery will be performed on your kitchen floor. You only need to be clean enough.

Thirty Days Hath September, or Some Such Nonsense

I find it impossible to remember how many days are in each month. No one ever taught me that silly rhyme, and so it doesn't help, and I'm usually around a calendar or a computer in situations when I need to know. For when I'm not, Saint Peg has a very simple way to remember, and which doesn't depend on your rhyming skills:

"In this system, the knuckles are thirty-one-day months, and the valleys between them are thirty-day months. If you start with January, on your first knuckle, you can't miss, with the exception of February, which always messes everything up anyway.
I believe, incidentally, that the Knuckle-tappers slightly outnumber the Thirty Days Hath September group. As it was explained to me by a friend, who tried both before she settled irrevocably for Knuckles, you might start off on the wrong foot with the poem- for instance, 'Thirty Days Hath December'- and you'd be in trouble all year; but your knuckles never change."

The I Hate to Housekeep Book, page 114.

How to Remember and How to Remember to Remember

If you're like me, you have a jolly time trying to remember anything. People are always disappointed in me because I forgot something important, something they felt I would be sure to remember. But I'd forget my own birthday if I didn't get phone calls in early May. Actually, that's untrue. I do remember my own birthday, but what is really hard is stuff I only have to remember to do once. Birthdays come every year, but I only need to pick up my friend from the airport once, and no matter how many times she reminded me on the days leading up to it, and no matter how much I was looking forward to seeing her, I only give myself fifty/fifty on remembering to go pick her up. How do I cope? Admittedly, I don't cope very well, but I have much better odds of remembering when I write things down. In my case this means I have sticky notes on every surface as well as in my pockets, but I may actually be reminded to call for a checkup before it's too late if I wrote it down immediately after thinking of it three months in advance.

My brain works in mysterious ways, and yours may well do also, but chances are your thought process is far different from mine. Sticky notes may not work for you. Find something that works and stick with it. Saint Peg had a few tips, one or two of which I'll share with you.

"Now, how to remember a number of things when you're unable to write them down- when you're driving, for instance, or soul alone, in bed, in the dark. This is where the memory experts prove the stuff they're made of. They have proved, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you can remember fifty things if you will first memorize fifty key words or pictures to remember them with.

"But to the random housewife, this doesn't make sense. In the first place, she hardly knows fifty things worth remembering, and if she did, that's what pencils are for. Four things are her maximum; and four key words which work for most people- because they are easy to remember- are these:

1. flagpole
2. red bloomers
3. tricycle
4. pig

"As you will perceive after a moment's close study, flagpole is singular, like 1. Bloomers, being bifurcated, are double, like 2. Tricycle, with its three wheels, is triple; and the usual pig has four legs.

"Thus, when you must depend on your head alone to remember some assorted things- say, to call Dr. Mason for a dental appointment, to leave the back door unlocked for the deliveryman, and to pick up anchovies and butter at the grocers- you do it in this fashion:

"First you run Dr. Mason up the flagpole. You clearly visualize him going up, probably flailing his arms and complaining all the way. If you think hard enough about him for a moment, you'll find him still stuck up there when you haul out your keywords* and look at Number 1- flagpole. You will remember, then, to call him up, and you'll undoubtedly find him none the worse for wear.

"And so on down your list. You mentally put the red bloomers on the delivery man, if that helps you to remember him, or you hang a pair from the front doorknob. You see a cheerful anchovy riding a tricycle. And a well-greased pig wallowing in a trough of the best butter.

"There you are, with all four things tidily remembered. You will find, too, that your four key words are obliging about cleaning themselves up. Once you've called the dentist or bought the anchovies, your keywords are bare of association again, and ready to reuse.

*You have to haul them out and check them, at fairly regular intervals, or they won't do a thing for you."

You're only saving money if you were going to buy it anyway.