Posts Tagged Under cleaning
So Full of Crap
On my desk where I write sits three combs; a tiny nail clipper; an orange bead from a broken kiddie necklace; two pink pipe cleaners; a broken calculator; my camera; Purell; wipes; bank statement from a year ago; an unsent thank-you note to Auntie Boo from Christmas – whoopsie!; a random unfunctioning TV remote; a January Us Weekly stolen from the dentist; a Rolodex from the ‘90s; mouse stickers; a 2004 birthday card; T-Ball raffle tickets expired in March; Target sunglasses; Miss Kitty sunglasses; sunglasses with one lens missing; spinning “organizer” crammed with 30,000 pens; pencils; air tire gauge; more hair combs; mangled Post-Its; broken iPod earphones; rusty Leatherman; red puzzle piece; very tired hair elastic; Aleve cold & sinus packet of eight with one missing. . . need I go on?
And this is just my desk. A 4” x 3 ½” foot space.
Now take this list of crap, times the size of everything by twenty, add wheels or dust or broken musical bits to most of them and – voila! – that’s my basement. Crammed. Full. Stuffed with crap.
By Annie YearoutWho Likes to Clean?
Growing up, I knew two things: My mother loved her four children. And she hated the ancillary jobs that came with raising us.
My mother detested housework and considered cooking an unpleasant necessity to be gotten over with as quickly as possible.
For Thanksgiving when I was thirteen, she presented a pre-cooked turkey roll she had purchased at the grocery store. My mother’s pride in finding a shortcut to the burden of preparing a holiday feast wasn’t diminished in the least by my father’s complaint that it didn’t look like any turkey he’d ever eaten. She placed the steaming tube of poultry concentrate on the table with a “tah-dah!” next to the cranberry sauce that still showed rings from the can from which it had emerged.
By Laura-Lynne PowellWhy I Don’t Clean
There is something I do not understand, but have long admired – neatness.
When I go to someone’s home and nothing is out of place, I become a bit uneasy. It’s admirable and efficient.
Still, I don’t get it.
By Dawn Yun
