Month: May 2025

I couldn’t get into spring cleaning this year. I couldn’t get into fall, winter or summer cleaning either.

My housekeeping may be slipping. There was a time when I cleaned the entire house from top to bottom every week. Now I just write “SEND HELP” in the dust on my desk.

When people come over, see that and ask if everything is all right, I hand them a dust cloth and can of Pledge.

I’m not lazy; I’m conserving energy.

There comes a time in every woman’s life when vacuum tracks on the rug cease to be a thrill. Why else would so many homes have hardwood floors these days?

I used to clean smudges on windows and doors every morning with spray cleaner and paper towels. These days I am content to pretend there’s patchy fog outside.

I still clean the bathrooms thoroughly every week. I also give them a quick clean every day or two—not because I’m a germaphobe, but because I’m still working my way through all the bleach wipes left over from COVID.

One of the best housekeeping tips I ever received came from our son-in-law who is a West Point alum. Before cadets had white glove inspection of their rooms, they sprayed furniture polish on the door frame at the same height as the inspector’s nose. Genius.

Don’t be surprised if you knock on our door and smell Lysol.

I read a sign that said a clean house is a sign of no internet connection. Our internet works great.

If you want to be philosophical, cleaning a house over and over goes against the laws of nature. Nature takes a year, 365 days, to run a full cycle.

A house can complete a full cycle in only 24 hours. A house can start the day “Martha Stewart lives here,” slide to “casual clutter” by noon, hit “there may have been a medical emergency” before dinner and reach “full-on whirlwind” by bedtime.

Our nemesis is paper. Whoever said the world has gone paperless hasn’t been to our house. We specialize in newspapers, books, journals, articles my husband clips for me to read, articles I clip for him to read, and interesting things we clip for our kids to read—things which they’ve already read online, but that doesn’t stop us.

A measure of ongoing chaos is inherent to all of life. I offer the definition of entropy as proof. Theoretically, it is a component of the second law of thermodynamics, but it’s really about keeping house. Entropy is “the randomness, disorder or uncertainty in a system.” Or in a house.

I rest my case.

And my vacuum.

So many people have food restrictions these days, that I usually go down a checklist before having someone over.

Are you gluten-free, sugar-free, meat-free? Are you dairy-free, dye-free, born-free? Sorry, word association.

In our extended family of 19, we have gluten-free, sulfa-free and one that can only eat fowl and fish. And not a single one of us looks underfed.

I came across a new one you might want to be free of: titanium dioxide.

It sounds like something Superman packed in his school lunch, but is an inorganic compound that comes from an ore and has a whitening and brightening quality. It is considered safe in some circles and an element to avoid in others. The component is used in paper, plastics, cosmetics and foods, primarily candy and baked goods. It is also frequently used in frozen pizzas. Yum.

“But wait—” as the man hawking chef’s knives on late-night television used to say “—there’s more!”

The “more” is that titanium dioxide can also protect from UV rays, which is why it is a common ingredient in sunscreen. Talk about versatile! You can eat it in your frozen pizza and slather it on your body at the pool.

Question: If you eat pizza containing titanium dioxide at the beach, does it give you sun protection from the inside out?

Alas, the ingredient finds itself in the realm of controversy. This is not the first time an ingredient considered to be the best thing since sliced bread one day (very, very white bread), is considered bad for you the next.

Recipes from my mother’s generation called for margarine. Margarine was declared revolutionary and butter melted into the past. Then, after a time, butter slid back into first place and margarine melted into the past.

I have a copy of the recipe book my grandmother received as a wedding gift. The spices women commonly used before the Depression were cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger. The book also includes recipes for raccoons. Cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger continue to be staples with most cooks, raccoons not so much. In one day; out the next.

I reminded the husband yesterday that we would be practicing the ever-popular trend of “eating clean” again. Eating clean means consuming foods as close to their natural state as possible. Fresh from the dirt is preferred.

Our take on eating clean means cleaning out the ‘fridge by eating all the leftovers. Our ‘fridge overfloweth.

Our clean dinner consisted of 6 red potatoes (circa. Easter), a large quantity of fresh green beans (the grands didn’t eat as much as I thought they would) an old yellow onion sprouting a green top, and two aging strips of bacon (part of the husband’s required nitrates).

For dessert we had apples.

We have two more shelves, a chill drawer and a fresh drawer to go before reaching our food goal—leftover-free.

 

 

 

 

 

I have come to the realization that I do not have the time nor patience for all the high-tech innovations designed to make my life more marvelous. I have all the marvelous I can handle right now.

This morning, I replaced a burnt-out kitchen light bulb. It was 9:16 when I started the process. Replacing the old bulb took less than a minute, using the last bulb from a three-pack we had on hand. Five other lights just like it in the ceiling glared at me in a threatening manner. Knowing light bulbs relish burning out in tandem, I went to the computer to search for more bulbs.

Of course, I was also online for cost comparison. Saving a dollar or two won’t compensate for the stock market’s dive, but it is therapeutic. I blew 30 minutes being therapeutic, searching site after site for bulbs with the same specs of the one I just changed. No success.

I went to my archived online orders, found I had last purchased these bulbs four years ago and clicked, “Buy Again.” Finally—light at the end of the tunnel.

The screen said, “currently unavailable.” The suggested alternative comes with color control adjustment, Bluetooth and Wi-Fi capabilities.

I warmed up my coffee, then visited multiple websites and watched YouTube videos on the differences between, and the benefits of, Bluetooth and Wi-Fi bulb connectivity and control.

I then took a short break to grab a Tylenol. After that, I scanned a QR code that landed me at a tutorial with instructions on how to control light bulbs containing microchips by downloading an app.

I am not completely unfamiliar with the process of remote-controlled lights. I once watched grandchildren at their home while their parents were out and was unable to turn on lights that were off, or turn off lights that were on. I was spooked and wondered if the house had wiring issues, but soon learned the lights had been set to timers on the phone of the kids’ tech-savvy daddy.

Still not finding bulbs with the specs we needed, it was now time for lunch. I opened the door to the ‘fridge and the light went on. I felt a glimmer of hope.

Still, I pondered what would happen when all the bulbs become “smart bulbs”? There we would be, two dim bulbs glued to our phones trying to figure out how to turn the lights on and off.

I checked the cabinet once more where we keep spare bulbs, hoping I had overlooked some. A reflection at the far back caught my eye. It was an old glass kerosene lamp my parents had.

If push comes to shove, it would beat sitting in the dark.