I am so darn appreciative of having a nice house that is easy to keep clean. Or maybe I should say a nice house that (for some blessed reason, thank the stars above) doesn't show the dirt, grit and grime that continually and mysteriously gets dragged indoors.
Don't think I'm a meticulous housekeeper, because I'm not. I can regularly go a week (or more) without vacuuming or dusting. I am, however, fairly conscientious about keeping things "picked up" which, perhaps, gives me nothing but a false illusion of cleanliness, but there you are. Even though I'm never happier nor feeling more content than when the house is actually clean and sparkling, I can go for long periods without doing much real cleaning if everything, at least, looks neat and tidy. Functioning in the midst of messiness is hard for me.
I readily confess there is one kind of "dirt" that I can't abide. Dirty dishes! Uffda, I cannot stand (((shudder, shudder))) to have a pile of dirty dishes sitting in the sink or on the counter. That one little thing makes me feel the whole house is a sloppy mess. Heck, I can't even prepare a meal when there are dirty dishes not done from a previous meal. Yeah, I know a good shrink could write a paper on that little idiosyncrasy of mine. (Probably already has.) (Maybe I should seek it out and read it.)
But where was I? Oh, yes. Grateful. And appreciative. And downright thankful for a house that truly is easy to keep clean. (Looking.)
Hunkered In ~ from the handiwork journal
2 hours ago