Marrying Mr. Clean

I love my husband. I have yakked about him HERE.
And HERE.

He’s a wonderful husband, the kind who pitches in and does all sorts of chores around the house. He cooks. He cleans. He helps with the laundry. He’s Super Dad.

I’m very blessed.

But sometimes... sometimes…I sort of wish that he didn’t know a Downy ball from a softball.

Because I married Mr. Clean.

My husband has a love affair with Scotch Brite Sponges. He buys them in bulk for perpetual availability and stores them in a gallon sized baggie under my sink. This Scotch Brite affection is so legendary that he has actually received boxes of them for Christmas gifts. He was thrilled.

He has used his Scotch Brite sponges and Mr. Clean biceps to scrub my kitchen into oblivion. He scoured  the finish off a laminate counter... He dulled the shine on a glass cooktop... And I might be the only wife in America who had to replace Revere Ware cookery because her husband scrubbed off the handles.

I hoarded them.

When he is not scrubbing my pots and pans, he is scrubbing out baggies. He turns them inside out, attacks them with the Scotch Brite, and pitches little tents all around my kitchen sink...

...a little baggie Hooverville.

That particular mess doesn’t bother him one iota. After all, he's an outie... and an even bigger reuser than I am. I once returned home to discover a single piece of paper towel spread out on the counter, drying. Apparently, Mr. Clean had decided that it was a perfectly good piece of paper towel because, as he explained to me, he had merely used it to wipe up some water.

I introduced him to Mr. Dish Towel.

He became infatuated.

So much so that a kitchen clean-up is only complete when he flies the Hooverville flag from the oven door. Now, This wouldn’t bother me so much if all of my towels didn’t look just like that one.

I have tried to replace them with pretty, colorful towels, but I have finally surrendered.
You see, the man is also just a tad germaphobic and certifiably addicted to the bottle of Clorox. He believes that every load of towels requires a cup of the stuff.  I have tried to explain to him that most towels are used to dry clean things. Therefore, industrial strength disinfection seems like overkill. Nevertheless, he stays on perpetual bleach offensive.

So we play a little game.

I buy new towels.

And he turns them into this:

Or this:

Sigh... 

You might be wondering what set Little Debbie off on this ramble today...

Well, it’s this:
I discovered yesterday that Mr. Clean has won the current round of dish towel tag. I can not find one single dish towel fit for anything but the rag bag.

And so, I will venture into THAT place.
And I will purchase some new ones.
Again.

But while I’m there, I am going to pick up some Scotch Brite sponges. Because I also discovered that his sponge baggie is almost empty. And that is my gift for today. I might even wrap them.

Honestly and truly, Sponge Bob will be thrilled.

The Simple Gift of Friendship

On Friday, I invited a few friends for a luncheon at my home. It was no special occasion, unless you consider friendship alone a reason to celebrate like I do. Actually, we had been tossing around the idea of starting a luncheon club for a while now. The inspiration came from the The List. On it, I have a section dedicated to the use of the beautiful china, crystal, serving pieces etc. that I keep way too secured behind the glass curtain. I think it’s a casualty of the Mommy Years. My friends agreed that their own lovelies had suffered the same fate, and so the idea was born.

Since it is spring break, and since I am in the middle of my 29 Day Gift Adventure, I decided to jump in and host the first luncheon. I’m so glad that I did. We had a lovely time.

I snapped some pictures before the guests arrived. After that, I put up the shiny red Kodak and enjoyed my friends.

The table setting was pink, not only because I love pink, but also because my china is pink. (Yes… back in the 80’s we didn’t have enough sense to choose a neutral pattern…I love my Shenandoah, however, and would probably choose it all over again if I had the choice.)

China: Shenandoah, by Noritake 

Crystal: Moonspun, by Lenox.

Flowers: Azaleas and dogwoods, by God.

The food was deliberately light and all easily fixed ahead of time.

The salad was a mixture of spring greens, fruit, and vegetables. I added dried cranberries for a little pink and served with pink raspberry walnut vinaigrette.

The lunch plate included curry chicken salad, cold vegetable salad, and pasta salad. My sister provided her delicious pasta salad for us. Not only did it help to have it made, but she’s doing the 29 Gifts Challenge with me so that was her gift for the day.

And do you see that lovely little bed of lettuce? It's a first fruit offering from our square foot gardens that I yakked about HERE.  Right now, they are looking more like this.

Meanwhile, back at the luncheon...

Because we’re all dieting, I kept the dessert really simple. It’s a weight watchers recipe for pink cherry fluff.

Coffee and conversation lasted until 5:00, and we planned our next luncheon for the beginning of June. (May was intentionally skipped… If you are a teacher or have school aged children, no explanation is necessary, is it?)

Lunch with friends. My 8th gift.

Practically 21

Twenty-one  years ago today... at precisely 3:33 in the afternoon...

I began the greatest adventure of my life.

It has been a wonderful ride.

And I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

We're heading out in just a little while to Macon, Georgia to visit a birthday girl on her special day.

Happy Birthday to my dear daughter.

I hope it's practically perfect in every way.

Just like you.

Simple Giving: Simple Service

As I’ve said, my girls are opposites in many ways. One profound difference is their individual takes on clothing storage. The Practical One keeps her clothes neatly organized within the innie options. One station for blouses… one for shirts… another for jackets, dresses, slacks… and the beat goes on. When stressed, she loves to pull them out, sort, and reorganize.

Miss Whimsy, on the other hand, views clothing storage as drudgery. She tends to stuff them wherever she can find the extra inch.
No order.
No plan.
No possible way that she can see the forest for the trees.

(Honestly, I think it's genetic. I flunked Clothes Closet 101 too.)

So periodically, I have to require that she sort out her clothes. This generally takes place during the seasonal change out. First, we pull everything out… of the closet… of the drawers…and of the box under the bed. And then we sort. We eliminate anything that is very obviously too small, very obviously too worn, and very obviously too outdated.

And then we sort the remaining items. This requires trying on anything which has earned “iffy” status. Not so much of a big deal these days, but back in the growing- like- a- weed days, it was a royal pain.

To her.

Because she always had four times amount of clothing of any normal child. This wasn’t the result of overindulgence as much as the fact that she’s the family Second Hand Rose. The fourth of four girls, she was the recipient of every “I paid good money for that” survivor of other seasonal sort piles.

I think this has left an indelible mark on the girl because to this day, she has a Pavlovian Response to the words, “Clean your closet”.

The instant they are uttered, she begins to morph into a human question mark. She drops her head, hunches her back, and drags her hands at her knees…

And she hrrrmphs.

She’s done it for years. I don’t know why; it has never reaped any peculiar reward for her. It just makes her look like Neanderthal Girl trying on a sundress.

So Tuesday while she was at the lake, I made the Great Closet Clean Up gift # 5. I pulled everything out, including those shoes (another post another day…) and I sorted it myself. First, I sorted everything that I thought would probably be given away. What was left, I stacked by style of clothing and season. That which I was sure she would wear this season was organized in the closet.  When she got home, a very grateful daughter gave a thumbs up to the give away pile.

She gave a grateful two thumbs up to being given an additional weekend to decide which winter clothes should be saved for another year.

We stored them here...

...in her sister's room.  

By the way, if you hear of an earthquake in central Georgia, never fear. It will merely be the sound of The Practical One hitting the floor in a dead faint ...

Walmart is reading my blog!

I can see no other explanation for it.

I’ll report; you decide.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s novel, I recently ventured back into Walmart Land for a 3 item pick up. And as I walked through the door, THIS is what caught my eye.



There, sitting discretely by the front door, was this quiet little tower of market baskets. Didn’t I just complain last week about the absence of market baskets at my local Walmart?

Why yes, I did. I wokkked about it HERE.

So I whipped out the shiny red Kodak to obtain the evidence, and as I grabbed a market basket to carry on my 3 item walkabout, I asked Mr. Greeter exactly when our Walmart had begun to offer those handy dandy little baskets.

And he said, “Last week.”

Coincidence? I think not.

I was chewing on this tidbit on the way home when I happened to catch a glimpse of a huge banner plastered across a store. It’s a relatively new store… the only local competitor to my favorite formal shop.

The one I yakkity yakked about  HERE... and HERE

And the banner said:

Now, I’m convinced.

Apparently, I have The Power.

Maybe today, I should yak about Congress…

The Busyness of Simple Giving

Sigh.
I had intended to update in bits and spurts about my 29 Day Gift Giving Challenge, but that Busyness Demon kept getting in the way. He tried, in fact, to keep me too busy to think about the gift giving commitment itself, but he tried in vain. The better Spirit prevailed. I stand solidly on day 6, more committed than I was at the beginning.

So here’s a brief  update  novel summarizing the first  4 days of simple gifts.

Day 1

This was an easy one since we had previously planned the family birthday party for Miss Whimsy to coincide with Easter weekend, and I had given myself permission in advance to count such gifts in my 29 days.

So I did.

Day 2

In truth, Saturday presented many opportunities to claim a similar prior plan. Crazy as it may sound, Saturday night, smack dab in the middle of Easter weekend, our school hosted the Junior/Senior Prom. (I know… I know… I was incredulous as well…)

Now, technically I could have counted the dress… or the hair… or the nails… or the pre- prom dinner that we cooked and served to her little group… or any number of indulgences surrounding the Cinderella Story. But I didn’t. Let’s face it: the Princess Project is as much a gift to the Queen as it is to the Princess. That would be cheating.

I did, however, figure out a way to combine the prom festivities with my giving challenge, and I did it on the Red Carpet that our school hosts as the Cinderellas head into the ball. In true paparazzi fashion, I hailed down every couple for whom I have a matching mom’s email address (quite a few) and asked them to pose for a picture on the runway. Then I emailed the pictures to their moms, who might or might not have made it to the runway themselves. In truth, the heart of my gift was not merely the picture, but the acknowledgement that I, too, had bothered to notice her Cinderella or Prince Charming on that runway that night.

Day 3

This was Easter Sunday, and I was admittedly having a little gift giving frustration this year. I am a very traditional person. The girls have had the same Easter baskets for as long as they can remember. As they got older, I started the tradition of buying them a new spring pocketbook to go with a lesser offering in the Easter basket. It works for us. Usually, we browse the favorite Purse Paradise, and they point out a few pretties which catch their eyes.

Shiny Purses of 2009

 Not this year. Oh, we browsed, but neither daughter seemed to spot a single purse that she liked enough to justify the expense. This is not good when Little Debbie is already crouched on the edge of Meltdown Mountain. And a gift isn't just something that you "check" off a list.

Then I remembered something that they each wanted. And so I took a boot- sized step out of the Easter box, or basket in this case.

We purchased and filled up these rain boots instead of the basket.

 I’m still not sure how I like the basketless Easter, to be honest. But it made the girls chuckle. And so I call this gift #3.

Day 4

I woke up on Day 4, totally tuckered and without a plan. Now, a lesson learned from the 2008 Challenge  was that often giving requires the stepping out of the comfort zone of your own house and mingling with the pubic. There, you will undoubtedly find a gift giving opportunity.

So I went to Walmart. Oh yes, I did.

Risky, I know. But I had exactly three things that I needed to get, one of which was a gallon of milk. When milk is not on sale at the grocery store, I buy it at Walmart. So off I went…

And the minute that I got to the parking lot, Little Debbie started her wokkkkking. It was already crowded, and I was having trouble finding a parking place. What threatened to set off the irk~o~meter was the number of spaces which would have been available, had some lazy Person of Walmart not plopped his cart willy nilly the middle of it.

And just as Little Debbie was about to go on a mental tirade, I “got” it. And I turned it into gift number 4. Parking my car at the back of the parking lot, I proceeded to collect every wayward cart and haul it to the cart return. The last one, I pushed into the store.. the wobble wheel leading the way. After I finished my shopping there, I headed to both grocery stores on the way home and did the same thing.

Whew. Attitude adjustment, gift giving, AND exercise all in one.

I have a gift to report from yesterday, but since this is already way too long, and since the gift was for Miss Whimsy… and she hasn’t discovered it yet… I’ll wait to include it with the next update.

Which will hopefully be more like the CliffsNotes than the novel.

How Beautiful...

A local church gathers around their simple wooden cross for Sunrise Service. At the conclusion, worshippers can decorate the cross with offerings of flowers that they have brought from their homes and yards. In the end, it looks like this:

I love it.

29 Gifts

I knew it was coming.

It wasn't a surprise, and it’s not a mystery.

But I’m overwhelmed.

And I am feeling a just little bit broke.

And yes, I mean “broke” and not “broken”.

I’m feeling broke, as in

Out. Of. Cash.

OK, I’m not technically broke. I just got a paycheck yesterday, in fact. But I’m going through one of those seasons when I feel as if the motion of hand to wallet to debit card to the slidey thingie is set on auto replay, and I can’t seem to do anything about it. I’m stuck in a perpetual game of what The Practical One used to call "Check Slide Beep".

And I knew it was coming. In fact, it really isn’t a cash issue because I had been squirreling away money for this season since Christmas. But no matter how much money I squirrel, and no matter how much I prepare Little Debbie for all that check slide beeping, she still threatens to melt down when I’m in the middle of a compulsory spending season.

Because I’m a tightwad and a worry wart. And yes, I know that both are ungodly sin- natured qualities. And that, of course, adds feelings of guilt to the ever growing pile of misery.

Spring is generally a spending season for us. As a teacher, I “wisely planned” the birth of my daughters for this time of the year. (Well actually, I planned them for the summer, but God designed it differently.) So I have birthday expense, and Easter expense, and then the Prom mega expense, followed too quickly by graduation gift expenses, which will be significant this year since I have a graduate among them. And the price of EVERYTHING is so high these days…wok wok wok wok wokkkkkkkkkk…

I have thought a lot about my worrisome attitude in the past few days, and I know that it needs an adjustment.

So as I sit here on this Good Friday morning, my thoughts naturally turn to the concept of giving. And I have been thinking about another season in my life when I felt overwhelmed.

It was the fall of 2008, and we were among those riding the first tsunami of unemployment. The husband’s job had been eliminated earlier in the summer. I wanted to keep ten fingers clenched tightly on the clasp to my wallet and guard it unto death. I was looking ahead to Christmas and wondering just exactly HOW I was going to add “it” to the out box.

And I stumbled upon THIS.

It’s a wonderful concept of redirecting our focus to the honor of giving. It’s a commitment to give a gift each day for a period of 29 days, a challenge to give intentionally… and yet spontaneously at the same time.

Gifts need not be monetary. In fact, my gifts during those 29 days that fall could not be monetary. I simply didn’t have the cash to spare. But I did have my imagination, and I did have my time. And so I set out on a 29 day journey of intentional giving. And I returned with some wonderful souvenirs.

So today, I’m starting that journey again. I have dubbed the remaining days of April  29 Days of Intentional Giving. Lucky me, I have several gifts already purchased or planned, and I’m giving myself permission to count them. But I will also have many days when I’ll have to think outside the box and think more abstractly, creatively, and without spending a dime.

I’m ready…