This one's from Lois. She's experiencing technical difficulties and asked me to post for her.It's finally summer. I can tell because my house is a shambles. Actually, unless there's some kind of court order involved, my house is usually a shambles. But even I have to admit that my cleaning habits have hit a new low. I mean please. Who doesn't have better things to do than squeegee toilet bowls when it's eighty degrees and sunny? Or, for that matter, eighty degrees and raining.
Living in the northland, where our extremities don't thaw out until Independence Day, one learns to appreciate the simple things in life, such functioning knuckle joints and the lack of need for defrosters on your eye glasses. On the other hand, we northlanders have a fabulous method of hiding our physical imperfections. It's called goose down. Layers and layers of fowl feathers.
But it's time to shed the layers, kick back, and enjoy life. So, in lieu of a Sunday recipe, which I can't supply because I don't/can't cook, I'm giving you my formula for summer fun. Here goes:
Get lots of sleep. I like to have 12 hours a day. But some people can stumble along on 10 if a portion of said sleep is taken on a hammock under a well aged shade tree.
Add plenty of fluids--something sporting an umbrella usually does the trick.
Mix in copious amounts of food, and aim high--toward the top of the food pyramid.
Season liberally with your favorite recreation--reading for instance. I have several books I could recommend, some of them have my name on them.
Laugh. Laugh long and often.
And do all these things with people you love.
Life is short. Summer's even shorter. Don't waste your time cleaning toilet bowls.
4 comments:
I couldn't agree more, Lois. That's why I hired a house cleaning service. Actually, my husband hired them!! Guess he couldn't stand it any longer :)
Helen, I'm with you. My one serious extravagance is my once a week "Meticulous Maid." That's the name of her service, although I can't quite bring myself to call her a maid. It feels too bourgeoise.
It was my husband's suggestion, and it's been well over ten years since we hired her. Cleaning was a bone of contention between us for years, and I must admit that Clyde always did his share. He says it's because grew up in boarding schools. I remember my mother scolding me one time, believing that "a man's home is his castle and he shouldn't have to do housework." Little did she know that my father once confided to me that Mama did not live up to HIS mother's standards. Grandmother Pierson ironed EVERYTHING, including the bedding.
So, ladies, methinks we've come a long way. We can choose not to slave over a hot stove, iron, or toilet brush without fear of being thrown out in the street--partly because most of us pay our share of the rent. Ah, sweet liberation, sweet summer days.
last week i actually called a cleaning service i saw advertised in the paper, but i'm so nervous about having a total stranger wandering around in my house. makes me nervous, but i think i'm going to have to take the plunge. if anybody can recommend someone in my area of st paul, let me know!!
oh, and lois-- that strawberry pie was delicious. :)
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