Thrice the brindled cat hath mewed
Nov. 13th, 2014 04:00 pmIf our clubhouse can be known locally as the Debauched Sloth* - and it can, believe me, for it is - then I see no reason why the dishwasher can't be known as the Brindled Cat. Lord knows, there's nothing else around here that we might brindle.
There exists upon the internets a website/tumblr/app called Unfuck Your Habitat. I'm not a devotee or anything, because it's all about maintenance and that's the stuff I'm really no good at, the consistent application of an abiding principle**; but I am rather charmed by the name***, and I really wish they could do me more good than in fact they can; so this afternoon - when I was by no means finished with the kitchen, despite having forgone leaving the house this morning in order to tackle it - I decided to play their game with a twenty-minute timer. And I did two sets of twenty-minute cleaning, and am done with no more than half the countertops & surfaces, hey-ho; but the chopping-board has been oiled, yay, and Karen's pewter tumbler for SCA events has been discovered, and some things have been thrown away and others set in order and I did also empty and fill the dishwasher three times. Three. And there are still dishes.
Now I am going to go to Lucky's, just in order to get myself out of the house once at least today. Besides, we stand in urgent need of dishwasher powder.
*"Sir, you have debauched my sloth." Patrick O'Brian, since you ask.
**Why yes, I am aware of the irony here.
***Not at all ironic: there are a hundred ways they could have said it cleanly, and that they chose to be crude just delights me. It's all about audience awareness.
There exists upon the internets a website/tumblr/app called Unfuck Your Habitat. I'm not a devotee or anything, because it's all about maintenance and that's the stuff I'm really no good at, the consistent application of an abiding principle**; but I am rather charmed by the name***, and I really wish they could do me more good than in fact they can; so this afternoon - when I was by no means finished with the kitchen, despite having forgone leaving the house this morning in order to tackle it - I decided to play their game with a twenty-minute timer. And I did two sets of twenty-minute cleaning, and am done with no more than half the countertops & surfaces, hey-ho; but the chopping-board has been oiled, yay, and Karen's pewter tumbler for SCA events has been discovered, and some things have been thrown away and others set in order and I did also empty and fill the dishwasher three times. Three. And there are still dishes.
Now I am going to go to Lucky's, just in order to get myself out of the house once at least today. Besides, we stand in urgent need of dishwasher powder.
*"Sir, you have debauched my sloth." Patrick O'Brian, since you ask.
**Why yes, I am aware of the irony here.
***Not at all ironic: there are a hundred ways they could have said it cleanly, and that they chose to be crude just delights me. It's all about audience awareness.