Party House

Preparing for Daughter's late birthday party, Fiorella rushed around the house like a mad woman,  trying to make her house look as much as possible like her mother's house.  She failed, of course.  No one could match her mother for housekeeping.  The vacuum cleaner was Mother's weapon of choice, and Better Homes and Garden was her guide while Fio couldn't remember how to work her vacuum and hasn't read a magazine in years

But Daughter seemed happy about her party as it was so all is well in Casa Fiorella.

Dust on the Rungs of the Rocker

On ten minutes notice, Better Homes and Gardens could have made a photo spread of Mother's house. It was that clean, that well-decorated, that much under control at all times.  In contrast, Fiorella is good at decorating, haphazard at cleaning, and her house is totally out of control at all times. But she has Mother's ideal ingrained in every atom of her being, which means she goes wacko the day before anyone is coming to visit--like for a holiday--like for Easter.  Suddenly she rushes outside and despairs of dead plantings and failed landscaping.  Then she rushes inside and despairs of dirt and disorder.  The she rushes back and forth, trying to remedy eons of neglect in one day.

She'd like to tell you that she's finally realized she, unlike her mother, has worked outside the home most of her life and is now spending hr time embarking on a new career, all of which excuses her from domestic perfection.  But her brain has no mercy.  It remembers all too well the first time Mom and Dad visited  Fio and Husband in the little duplex they had rented right after they were married.  Fiorella, who was carrying a full load of college courses, had not only swept and cleaned, but come up with a clever furniture arrangement she thought Mother would commend.

But such was not to be.  Mother glanced at a comfortable chair stationed next to the TV and glowered.  "The rungs of the rocker have dust on them," she said.

And that, friends, is why Fio goes wacko whenever someone is scheduled to visit.

Triple

Fiorella has her laptop back!

It was a short, or several shorts, caused by one of the "print" ports breaking into pieces inside the computer when Fio got a little too forceful trying to push the cord into it.  But now Fio's precious is cleaned out and working again, she's scrubbed all the woodwork and cabinet doors in the kitchen, and, while was hacked into Husband's machine, she discovered some short stories she'd written a while back which, viewed with fresh eyes, looked pretty darn good.

So what Fiorella thought was a major tragedy turned out to be a win/win situation.  Her computer is cleaner than it's been since she bought it, her kitchen in shining bright, and those short stories look promising.

So actually it's a win/win/win situation.

Priorities

Fiorella engages in priority housekeeping.  Whatever is in desperate straits receives attention; the rest can wait.  In contrast, housekeeping was Fio's mother's major priority.  Yes, Fio grew up in a house in which there was a place for everything and everything was in its place, and she liked it, but she has other things she'd rather do than clean, vacuum, and pick up after everybody.  

She always did.  It drove her mother crazy.

Out of the Closet

When Fiorella was young and growing like a weed, much of her wardrobe had to be replaced every year. At the very least, the hems had to be lengthened--or raised, as the style dictated.

Now that she is, uh, mature and shrinking, her clothes hang around forever in her closet. So long that she's started personifying them, thinking of them as old friends. And Fio is nothing if not loyal. They may be a little the worse for wear, but so is she.

But the time has come to sort out whatever doesn't fit, never did fit, or has shoulder pads the size of footballs. Into the donation box, one and all.

Fio is sad.

Five Extra Things

Fiorella's mother was a good woman with exemplary housekeeping habits.

1) She did laundry every week instead of putting it off until all her clothes were in the hamper.
2) She used needle and thread instead of safety pins to hem her slacks.
3) She ironed her clothes before she put them in the closet, not just before she wore them.
4) She placed stuff directly in the waste basket instead of tossing it from ten feet away.
5) She did her own vacuuming instead of leaving it to the twice-a-month maid.

Fio does the "instead ofs."

Speaking of Housework

I see a house with fluted columns and all I can think is that I wouldn't want to have to keep those suckers clean. Yes, one thing Fio insisted on in the current house was no grout in the bathroom.
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Twice a month the maid comes, sighs, and goes about setting us straight again. My mother would have sighed the same. She had a place for everything and everything was in its place, but I was born to disorder, to be always in the middle of something messy, or even two or three things. I really should change my ways--hmm--maybe get the maid to come three times a month.
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Husband is complicit. When I expressed sympathy for his insomnia one next morning, he asked how I knew he had been up. Well, maybe four kitchen cabinet doors agape, two drawers half open, and an empty milk bottle on the island. Ya think?
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