So often aiming for that extra level of perfection puts you in a worse place than you would have been at, had you stayed with more modest ambitions. That's my thought for this day as we reach the evening hours and I still haven't touched food prep for tomorrow's meal.
Here's how the day went: on my to do list, there was a farmhouse cleanup. For tomorrow, and, too, for when my younger girl comes with her family later in the weekend. Yes, I needed to dig in and get it done. We don't clean thoroughly nearly often enough. I spot clean when I approach an area that I deem in dire need of it. I tidy stuff so that it looks orderly. But the thorough job I save for holidays and visits.
Ed hangs back when I attack the house ambitiously. He'll vacuum, but he wont go after the dusty elevated spots so I find him to be only slightly helpful in these big cleaning projects. (Though to his credit, he does a superb job on the mudroom when asked -- hppy to throw away any of my stuff there!) So it's mostly on me to do the job well.
This morning then (a very cold morning, but I can't gripe because this weekend we'll be getting an arctic blast, below freezing both night and day, so today's chill is peanuts), I go out to feed the animals -- and give you the usual daily photo of a landscape that is so very different now from our summer one...
And we do eat a nice breakfast -- sweet and delicious...
And we talk about how unpredictable life is (you think you know how the next two or four years will unfold? Ha!).
And then I begin my cleaning. I give myself a couple of hours for it.
It takes far longer.
Things unraveled pretty quickly when I decide to organize the cleaning supplies that are stashed under the sink. Do you do that as well? Put cleaners there, forget about them, use others, until things get so tight below that sink that you decide to "organize things" a bit. Yep, I decided to organize things a bit and in so doing, I found that the cabinet floor was damp. I told myself -- it's probably some splash of something or other. But of course, that can't be harmless. So I took all the accumulated cleaning supplies out and called Ed. And yes, there is a drip and it isn't small and before I know it, he is taking apart the drain and the disposal and grunting and pounding until finally, an hour later, he proclaims the leak to be fixed. But what a mess I have before me now!
And nothing prepped for tomorrow's big meal.
What to do? Go for a walk of course! I cling to the belief that it will get done! There will be a turkey, damn it!
However, before heading out, I have to run the dryer one more time. I had decided to wash the couch cover. That's not a maybe, it's a must! The kids and Ed eat while sitting on it (well, so do I, but I'm neat!) and it shows!
The dryer decides at this moment to stop working.
Ed!
Now, this cant come as a surprise. The machine is at least forty, maybe fifty years old (honestly!). Ed found it battered and broken at a junk shop long before we even met and we've been together nearly twenty years. Over the years, he's fixed it of course. Many times. In the meantime, today, I have two giant and very wet loads of laundry waiting. This is going to be an interesting set of hours.
Eventually he determines what parts likely need to be replaced. Not that he can get them today. But eventually. In the meantime, if he holds a finger in a certain place and I push the button in a different place, we can get it to cycle through a load. With several stops and restarts. It never fully dries a load, but hey, we can spread wet clothes and a wet couch cover all over the farmhouse, no?
Our house looks like a hurricane went through it.
Doing this, of course, takes time. And still, he wants to squeeze in a walk. And it's a good idea -- we both need the exhale that comes from a brisk romp along our favorite trail. But it cannot be a long walk: I have an appointment with the foot doc. I'd been on meds for ten days now and the foot is not totally healed. I snatched the only available appointment I could get: 3:15 pm the day before Thanksgiving. No one wanted that one! Everyone is either cooking, or driving over the river and through the woods to grandma's house for Thanksgiving.
The doc takes one look and tells me she has to do a (minor) surgical procedure right now! Well fine, but there's Thanksgiving... Just keep the foot elevated, and soak it several times a day, and put antibiotics on it and it should be fine! What color tape would you like? Purple? Okay! Happy Thanksgiving!
And so here we are: night approaches and I've done nothing. Unbelievable, no? (Just so you know, I am buying a pie. There's no way that I was going to agree to bake a dessert for the gang. They're all over the place with their sweet preferences -- it's best to just get the one thing they can agree on -- a chocolate cream pie. Not very Thanksgiving-ish, but at least it wont go to waste and I dont have to bake it.)
With love...
