This place is trashed. I’m sort of surprised that it’s trashed because with the baby arriving at any moment I’ve been really good about keeping the house in order. I know once the bairn is here I’ll have much less time to do dumb things like clean up, so I got it really sorted in the weeks leading up to Christmas, and then somehow it all came undone over the span of two days.
Our little bubble all stayed here over Christmas and Ken drove from Ottawa (coming a day early and dodging that blizzard, thank goodness) and that many people in an itty bitty house was enough to unsettle every room.
I like very much to have the house in good order for the New Year and this year I really feel the need to have it (by it I mean everything) tidy and well organized.
That means that unless a baby comes along to interrupt me, this week is going to be all about the clean and purge, restoring order and then some. As a human I’m not someone who really enjoys cleaning.
I mean, I don’t hate it -but I like it less than about 187 different activities I can think of so this morning I lay in bed making a plan for which rooms I’m going to work on when, and how I’ll approach it, and then came downstairs, made coffee and promptly fell off the cleaning wagon.
I keep going into the kitchen and washing three things and half heartedly wiping things with the minimum of enthusiasm, and then wandering away to ponder my knitting, which is sort of what always happens with cleaning and is more than a bit ironic because one of the things I should be cleaning up is my knitting. I have four unfinished Christmas presents scattered around and a better woman would knit all of those and try to start the coming year with a clean slate, but I am still not her.
So I’m going to chuck it all and knit a baby sweater. Maybe I can bribe her out.
