Tag Archives: cleaning

A baseboard jigsaw puzzle.

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After the floor was laid and all the new moulding was stained, it was time to arrange the living room jigsaw puzzle.

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I say that because if you’ve ever stained multiple pieces of 10 foot moulding you’ll know they don’t all turn out the same due to variations in the wood.

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Same moulding. Same stain. Totally different grain.

This makes matching and blending a bit of a challenge.

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It had to match an existing door…

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And this slab under the cabinet.

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It’s not easy. And when you use up all the good pieces?

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You hide the bad ones behind a couch.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten kept a close eye on the proceedings from his temporary perch on a stick vacuum I bought and then returned. You know what $249 gets you these days? A horrible piece of plastic junk.

Think I’ll have to suck it up… no pun intended… and buy a Dyson.

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Living room flooring – done!

Living room moulding – done!

All that was left was putting the room back together.

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After some serious cleaning that is.

🥴

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Random drivel.

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Autumn is here and it’s by far my favorite time of year. Crisp air, brightly colored foliage, pumpkins, apples… what’s not to love?

Of course if you’re my husband, who just spent countless thousands turning his barn into a man cave, you might not fully embrace the season.

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Because nothing says ‘private domain of men’ more than a strategically placed fall wreath.

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And speaking of turning leaves….

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Ours are just beginning to put on a show. It’s the season I starting twitching for a road trip to the mountains. Whether that will happen is still up for debate.

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Weren’t expecting that?

Neither was I, but it popped up on my FB feed all the same.

🥴

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A photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten meeting my new toy. He was not impressed, but I am.

Since blowing out my knee last year, getting on all fours to scrub the kitchen floor has been a no no. Enter the Bissell steam mop. Cheap and surprisingly efficient.

How well did it clean the floor?

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So well that I literally gasped at how filthy it had become.

In my defense, I mopped right after a rain storm and had to erase an artful array of the husband’s muddy boot prints, but still.

😬

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Raise your hand if you want a robot in your toilet.

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No, I’m not kidding. And yes, I wish I was.

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Because even though I don’t enjoy elbow deep scrubbing in the commode, I’m not sure I want it roboticized either.

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Electrolyzed water? Why am I having visions of Victor Frankenstein…

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And while I’d love to be delighted by my bathroom… I seriously doubt sitting fully clothed in the tub blowing bubbles would be high on my list.

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Things I like today.

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I like flipping through magazines and finding cocktail recipes.

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Mmm…. this sounds refreshing. Needless to say I shall be adjusting the required alcohol amounts. 3 tbsps of gin? Bitch, please.

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I like finding a decent cat food Lord Dudley Mountcatten will actually eat.

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Three ingredients, you can’t beat that.

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In other news, I like cheese.

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Tell me you haven’t felt the same way. Go ahead… I dare you.

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If you’ve never tried Mrs. Meyer’s cleaning products you really should. Their scents are marvelous. Basil, geranium, honeysuckle, bluebell and the latest… fresh mown grass. Ooh la la! If it wasn’t so soapy I swear I’d use it as perfume.

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And finally, I like Dudley’s laissez faire attitude when it comes to dining. If the human puts your dinner in front of you when you’re lying down? Why bother getting up….

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Forgetful… or preparing?

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So it took a solid week but the husband finally finished cleaning up the den and put everything back in his closet.

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Well, almost everything.

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I’m hoping he just forgot to put those away.

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But the way things are going in this country? I could be wrong.

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* Disclaimer- the husband isn’t a paranoid prepper and this is probably the only ammunition he has. But since he does have a giant live round in the barn window, I thought the placement was comical *

If there’s an award for the world’s most patient wife…

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I should win it.

Hands down.

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Because I’ve been looking at this mess for…. count them…. 37 frickin’ days.

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This giant load of useless crap was belched from my husband’s closet in the den on December 8th when he needed to climb up in the attic.

I didn’t bitch, it was a necessity.

And since he had the next 30 days off work because he didn’t take any vacation in 2020, I figured he would deal with it at his leisure.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

I didn’t bitch a week later when it was still there.

But two weeks later? I was bitching silently in my head.

Three weeks later? I was bitching in my sleep.

Four weeks later? I was bitching opening while plotting his slow, but quite painful demise.

It’s only today, 37 frickin’ days later, the day before he goes back to work….

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That he decided to deal with it. Of course it’s not a matter of simply putting things back in the closet. No. That would be too simple. Instead, each and every item must be fully examined and then brought to me for the desired but never realized “Gee, that’s swell. I wish you had 6 more just like it!” response.

Then he leaves the item in front of me with hopes that I’ll look it up and find it’s worth thousands of dollars.

FYI? The Moosehead beer mirror my husband knew was a vintage bar collectible?

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Turned out to be a carnival prize worth $10.

As I type he’s knee deep in a stack of tattered Look magazines from the 60’s.

This clean up may take a while.

Another 37 days is not out of the realm of possibility.

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*Update – 5 hours later? The room is still littered with crap and there’s a ladder in the hallway.

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Good times.

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He tried.

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Yes, he tried… and I’m going to give him points for that.

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The other day during the miraculous (and possibly orchestrated by aliens) garage clean out…. the husband tried to sell some tires.

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No, he didn’t put a price on the sign.

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And bless his heart, the pile got bigger as the day wore on because he kept finding more tires.

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He even went out and artfully arranged all the mismatched, unwanted, never fit any vehicle we owned, tires.

But alas, at the end of the day….

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They ended up in our cellar… where they’ll probably die a slow death because no one else wants our unwanted tires either.

But damn it, he tried.

And I appreciate the effort.

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The miracle continues…

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Out of nowhere the husband decided to clean the garage.

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And there was lots to sort through and clean believe me.

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Did I crochet that?

I once superglued the straps of my bathing suit together, so… no.

Like hundreds of other items that show up in our out buildings, I have no clue how it came to be there. But the point is, the husband was willing to get rid of some things and that had to be celebrated.

Applauded.

And crowed about on a blog.

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Okay, so he wasn’t willing to part with everything. This was old, rusted and didn’t work.

In other words, a keeper!

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Halfway though the day he stumbled on that motorcycle dolly he just had to have. You know the one… I bought it for his birthday 10 years ago, almost broke my back getting it into the house and wrapped? The one he not only didn’t use, but never even opened?

Yeah, that one.

Problem was it had been stuck in the back of the garage for all that time and a mouse family had moved in. So when he picked it up?

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The bottom of the box gave way.

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And pounds of mouse shavings, clippings and poo fell out.

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But one side of the building revealed it did indeed have a (seriously cracked) floor and the truck was filling up for a dump run.

Cue the brass band.

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Naturally if I put anything in there, it had to be gone over with a fine tooth comb. Which by the way, I found three of.

None with a full set of teeth.

Good times.

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So tell me, is this really necessary?

 

 

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had any trouble finding the toilet at 3:00am and certainly don’t need it to glow neon blue like some freaky interplanetary transport system.

 

Rotating fluorescent colors?

Hell… if I want a rave, I can think of better locations than my bathroom.

 

 

Cleaning isn’t a problem?

The scrubbing bubbles may disagree.