Rightly or wrongly, I always associate white blooms with Domestic Goddess… which is so what I’m not, however these beauties are what I currently have at home.
The weekend is upon us and once again, I am trying to fit in chores before I allow myself outdoors. Does anyone feel resentful of the full laundry basket? Do people scowl at the sight of unwashed dishes? I swear I would be quite happy to eat out every night if it meant I could do away with washing up. I dislike the fact that I spend time inspecting the bathroom sink and the counter for water stains, the detritus from the Hub’s daily beard trimming (obviously I leave no mess whatsoever – ha!), etc. And do NOT even mention the vacuum cleaner. That appliance makes me angry beyond all sense and reason. I hate vacuuming much much much more than toilet scrubbing. Now, that makes no sense at all, does it?
We live in a one-bed, one-bath apartment, tiny by suburban standards but sufficient for inner city living so I haven’t been able to justify engaging a house cleaner. Correction: I got vetoed by the Beard-Trimmer. So guess who gets stuck with the bulk of the cleaning.
That’s right. I am having a full-throated whinge.
Which brings me to the soundtrack for this post. Lanie Lane’s To The Horses. She mostly sings about man problems, but in my world, his name is Dyson.