...but I don't want to!

Monday mornings have been a problem for me for years.  When I was a kid, Mondays usually started with me, scrunched up in my school bus seat, No. 2 Ticonderoga furiously scribbling out the answers to homework assignment that I was supposed to have finished over the weekend.  When my kids were kids, Monday meant cleaning up all the fun we had had on Saturday.

You might think things would be a little better now that it's just my husband and I here.  This morning I woke up, like it or not, to Saturday's fun and Sunday's relaxation spread all over the house and piled high on the kitchen counter.  In case you were wondering, I don't like it.  So, I find myself, sweating in my flannel PJ's, and scraping Scalloped Potato slime off my best 9" X 13" stoneware pan, which I left soaking about thirty hours ago.

Beside my regular spot on the living room sofa, a lovely cross-stitch project calls to me.  Oh, how I want to pick it up and celebrate its beauty with ever increasing forms created with needle and colorful thread!  But, no. The dishes won't do themselves, and nobody else will, either.

...but I don't wanna clean the house!  Who the heck am I talking to? I am whining at my higher self, and she must discipline me the same way I disciplined my kids when they used to tell me the same thing.  I had (and still have) really good kids, but that didn't stop them from saying, "I don't want to _________." Fill in the blank with whatever undesirable job you wish.

I would always answer them, "I'm sure you don't.  About 90% of my life is filled with stuff I don't want to do"  Too bad for all of us, eh?

I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in my Monday morning whining.  So, friends, I will rise from here, set a timer for twenty minutes and work on that 90%.  Then I will reset it and do a little bit of the 10%.  Eventually my higher self will win, and my house will be in order.

Cool ideas for a Crummy Bathroom

We have two bathrooms in our house:  One spacious, pretty master bath, complete with double sinks and a big garden tub, and one little crummy one, which all four of my kids shared when they were teenagers.  It measures six-by-seven feet, just barely enough room for the essential tub, toilet and sink.  

I spiffed up the room by making my own unique shower curtain. This is one of the first quilts I ever completed.  To the untrained eye, it's beautiful and amazing.  Those of you who are quilters, don't look too closely.  I was on a serious learning curve when I made it.

You don't need to be able to quilt to use this idea.  Most discount stores sell pretty quilts at very reasonable prices.  Thrift stores and consignment shops sometimes have them, too. You could also make your own custom shower curtain using  a sheet, tablecloth or any type of fabric.  For a full size tub shower, the curtain will need to be a minimum of 70" X 70".  

Purchase drapery rings such as these.  They have a large plastic ring which is attached to a small, strong clip.  I bought mine at Walmart in the housewares section.  They come in packs of six or twelve.  This quilt is a bit heavy, so I used twelve.  Space the rings equally across the top, and hang your new shower curtain on a separate rod from your shower curtain liner.  Keep the bottom of the liner inside the tub, and your spiffy new curtain on the outside.

This method makes laundering your decorative curtain easy.  Just unclip it, and wash according to manufacturer's instructions.

With such a small space, and especially with four teenagers sharing the bathroom, storage has always been a problem.  Here's what I use:

This is a shoe organizer with 24 clear vinyl pockets.  I paid only $7 for it at Walmart, so when it gets dirty or damaged, I just toss it and buy another one.  So easy!

Love and Gravy

Valentine's Day is almost here, and with it comes many great expectations.  Women want romance, and men simply don't want to blow it. Advertisers manipulate both sexes by laying it on thick with opportunities to purchase everything from chocolate covered strawberries and roses to gigantic teddy bears, diamonds, lingerie (to her for him) and hoodie footie pajamas (to her for her).   I, personally, would enjoy receiving any of these surprises, with the definite  exception of the giant teddy bear, and maybe not the hoodie footies because I hate it when my feet sweat.

Advertisers know how the romance game works: A woman wants to feel beautiful, appreciated and loved, but she must never tell her man how he should accomplish this feat.  He is supposed to just know.  If she has to tell him what she wants, then it doesn't really count.  Men, for their part, listen to advertisers and buy romantic stuff in hopes of not blowing it. The romance game is a little like tic-tac-toe:  When you are young, it's challenging, and somebody usually wins.  As you grow older and wiser, the game always ends in a stand-off.  He wants to make her happy, but she won't tell him how because that would ruin the game.

I'm not bitter about this, just realistic.  In reality, romance and true love are linked, but they are not the same thing.  Yes, I love to be appreciated and wooed.  If I could compare our marriage to food, our love would be a really good plate of delicious, tender roast beef and creamy mashed potatoes with lovely grilled veggies on the side.  Our love is healthy, nourishing, delicious and substantial.  Every now and then, I get romance, which is like rich brown gravy poured generously over the whole meal then smothered in savory slices of sauteed garlic.  I  love it!  However, the gravy and garlic wouldn't be that great served on a plate all by themselves. They make a meal that's already good even more delicious.  Continuing with this analogy, why should the gravy be less appreciated, if I placed my order for it?

To be fair ladies, don't be afraid to ask for what you want.  And you, dear gentlemen, listen and respond.  Pour on the gravy, and throw in some chocolate covered strawberries for dessert.

P.S. If my husband is reading this, go back to the first paragraph.  You've been put on notice.