There's a new book out? Well, how about that. I have actually read the first one and it was fun enough but I'm afraid I don't really get it. I might watch the movies on DVD some time because of the great cast like Dame Judy etc, but it'll be a while yet.
OK, now that I've got that off my chest....
This post is actually about domesticity and the lack of it around here. I may share a blog with RoseRed that suggests we are Domestic Goddesses but really, that only relates to food. It's probably quite telling that my idea of housework is to spend the morning in my kitchen, cleaning it, cooking in it, preparing shopping lists and a menu for the week and that's about it. Once that's done, I figure it's time to knit.
I by no means live in a pig-sty. I am not dirty. I'm just not tidy. And just to prove the point, here is what I will call my Gallery of Shame. These are the bits of the house I tend the neglect most. I will just add though, before I lead you down the Gallery of Shame, that I did manage to tidy up my tupperware cupboard this morning, over a year after we moved in and threw everything in there. So, I'm not all bad. I'm just slow off the mark sometimes.
And yes, blogging about this is a serious procrastination technique.
First up, we have the dining table. It's less a dining table and more a work space that's somewhat short of space.
The other end is tidy because we actually ate breakfast there this morning. My lovely father in law is visiting. I couldn't ask him to eat on the couch.
Obviously the two people who live in this house spend the majority of their time either knitting, playing with computers or cooking. Here is the evidence. There's yarn, a knitted sock, a cooking magazine, cook books, a coffee plunger, a computer and computer bits. That's us, geeky food lovers. And proud.
The computer screen actually has the the first paragraph I wrote of this post before I decided to document my slothful ways with photos. Weird. A photo of a blog post I'm still writing.
Here's my kitchen bench.
Normally, when I post food photos for Mouthfuls of Heaven, I've taken some trouble to show only the best bits. I clear a space, use the macro function on the camera and readers have no idea (unless they have been here before) that beyond the frame of the camera it actually looks like this. Shame, Bells. Shame.
This shot is taken from the other side to where I work and yes, I've been cooking for Mouthfuls of Heaven this morning. The bench, now that I look at it, actually looks better than it normally does but there's no hiding the fact that we have a pathetically small kitchen which we hope to obliterate and rebuild one day.
Here's one of the other flat surfaces that really suffers.
Our hutch, which is just near the entry way. Everything in our hands at the end of the day gets dumped there and often left for months at a time or until visitors come. Honestly, we are slobs.
Here's my coffee table. The thing I hate about cleaning it up is that it's always only a matter of minutes before something is put down there and the whole cycle starts again.
I read the other day that the laundry is one of the most neglected rooms in any house. I am living proof.
This is my knitting space on the couch.
I think the last time I posted a photo of this, there was some cosmetic work done before I took the photo. It never looks as good as that. This is more true to life. Why put knitting away when there are no pets or kids to mess it up and I can just sit and pick it up at a moment's notice?
When there's a two year old in the house, things might be different. I'm afraid of that. Really I am.
And finally, I know I said I'm not dirty, but I really, really hate dusting. I hate it so much because really, no sooner does Mr Sheen get a chance to go over things (and we haven't spoken in a while so he doesn't get that chance very often) than it seems the dust settles again immediately. I think life's too short to fight that battle too often.
Evidence is here. Our bedhead. God I am so ashamed. This is really, really awful. I'm going to go and dust it as soon as I hit publish. How did I let it get this bad? And why doesn't the other inhabitant of this house ever notice? Oh yeah, that's right. He's a man. Of course.
The finger marks are there from a week ago when I wiped my finger over it like a disapproving mother-in-law inspecting how the woman who married my son is demonstrating her worthiness. I walked away in disgust and have been ignoring it ever since.
I had hopes that this post would be the motivation I need to go and do something about this appalling state of affairs but you know what? I've got Radiohead playing, bread in the oven and the sun is shining. I just want to put the kettle on and knit.
Oh and before anyone asks, no the steeked jacket has not progressed. Not an inch. Not one single stitch. I'm starting to worry.
Bells
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