‘Your house needs cleaning’. These were the opening words of a little handmade flyer (well, more of a scrap of paper) put through my door, advertising a cleaning service.
How do they know? Who told them? Yes, it’s true, my house does need cleaning, but these are matters I generally prefer to keep private. Has someone been peeking through my letterbox?
This is not an approach which is likely to endear me to the services offered by the flyer. I really don’t need to be told how dirty my house is. My current cleaner tells me off quite enough already.
Someone once remarked that all work consisted of either moving objects around the face of the globe, or instructing others to do so. In my case I think the statement can be made more specific. Almost all my work seems to consist of moving clothes around my house. Consider this morning for instance:
1. Spin washing which was washed last night in response to discovering one of the three compartments of my laundry basket was overflowing.
2. Bring basket of said washing upstairs.
3. Take down from drying rack, the previous washing which was washed two nights ago in response to discovering that son’s laundry basket was overflowing.
4. Place dry wash in basket ready to move to airing cupboard.
5. Hang up on drying rack the washing from last night.
6. Clear airing cupboard (which is overflowing) to make room for the washing from two nights ago.
7. Match socks as necessary/possible
8. Place clothes taken out of airing cupboard in appropriate drawers.
9. Tidy clothes all over bedroom into appropriate drawers and wardrobes.
10. Tidy clothes all over son’s floor into appropriate drawers.
11. Assemble clothes which need to be repaired/altered at new tailor’s shop which has opened nearby.
12. Go to the sales to get more clothes? Maybe not…
Coffee spoons be damned (pace TS Eliot), my life is measured out in washing loads. Was it for this I got an Oxford degree in Eng. Lit?