Domestic Day

We got up this morning to a feeling of weariness not caused entirely by working until two and then getting up at seven for a school run.

We discussed this over coffee when we got back and concluded that we had been spending an awful lot of time at work and chasing around after children, and not very much time at all in making our lives feel happy and wonderful.

Once we had realised this I had a bit of a think about the things that felt wrong: you will be pleased to hear that none of them were Elton John. It didn’t take terribly long before we knew what was making us feel out of sorts.

I love our house when it is fresh and clean and smelling of polish and lavender and mint. I don’t like it nearly so much when there is fluff in every corner and sticky patches everywhere, and it smells of the dog and of Oliver’s wee and of stale yoghurt.

We have been so busy for ages, we have dashed in and out and hurled things into cupboards out of the way, and chucked towels at spills instead of washing things properly, and everywhere had got dusty and cluttered, and it had become time for an airing and a spring clean.

The original intention was that we would both clean together, starting at the top and scrubbing our way downwards until everything sparkled: but by the time I had drunk half of my cup of coffee I was beginning to take a hard look at my surroundings and it was becoming plain that a bit of tidying up might fix the current clutter problem, but in the way of these things, it would only really be a temporary measure, rather like the spirit of repairs that puts a bucket under a leak.

We have got a very nice kitchen table, but the thing is that when we come in from work we dump our bags and cash boxes and keys and half-eaten chocolate on the top of it, collapse into chairs and drink wine with our feet on any leftover table space. After the wine we never start sprucing things up and putting them away tidily, we usually feel sleepy and recklessly messy and just go to bed, so every morning we get up to a depressing clutter of smelly sandwich wrappers and piles of change and crumbs, which all needs to be removed and organised before we can even make a decent start on drinking coffee and yawning and resolving to go to bed earlier.

I felt sure that this problem could be avoided if only we had a nice suitable spot where we could put everything as soon as we got home, somewhere which would be convenient otherwise we wouldn’t bother, but also tidy and easy to sort out the next day.

We resolved on the little bit of work surface next to the sink.

The problem was that the microwave was there.

This meant that Mark had to find somewhere else to put the microwave, and it is a very small kitchen, so there wasn’t anywhere handily vacant, so he had to start to build some more shelves.

This has needed doing for absolutely ages. He has been promising me more shelves for the last year, and I think I have been very patient about it, but my Hour Had Come and we needed to move the microwave. Also I reminded him that whilst he was doing it, it wouldn’t be any extra trouble to build me a spice rack and a small shelf for phones and chargers, and then finish the tiling.

So we have had a very busy day. I scrubbed and cleaned, which was ace: Oliver’s bathroom was revolting. His loo was a sort of yellowish sticky after having him and about six of his friends in his bedroom for half of the weekend: however fortunately his shower was still almost completely untouched and pristine, which made up for it a bit.

Mark spent all day sawing bits of wood up in the garden, and by the end of it the microwave was indeed on a very nice shelf and out of the way. However, he has not yet quite got to the spice rack, the phone shelf or the tiling, so we have decided that we will take a few days next week and only work at nights instead of starting at lunchtime, and make the kitchen look lovely and the house feel perfect again.

I am very pleased about this. It is so exciting when we change things and make everything fit us a little bit better, it is one of the nicest things that we do.

I am writing to you from a beautifully tidy desk, and very soon I will be going to bed feeling very happy.

I have got a tidy kitchen.