Not sure what drove me near the brink of insanity today, but I have a little idea how it got started. Oh, about a week ago, the sun decided to peek out and I wasn't quite sure what it was. I also wasn't sure it would stick around long, so I decided to get to know it a little better. Well, I accomplished that, and now I'm sporting a new shade of foundation because the other one makes me look like I'm painting up to be a mime. (Not the same as Meme, which I've heard I've been "tagged" by, but have yet to respond due to lack of readers to pass it on TO).
Anyway, I got a gazillion seeds planted, I mowed the yard, I found a new pleasure in cleaning out the carport with a leaf blower AND I got a 3x2 foot square section of my flowerbed weeded (because the cramps started setting into the back of my calf and I was worried I'd end up falling on the ground and have to explain the chicken poop stuck in my hair after I'd have to roll around to get back up).
Let me tell ya, sunshine does wonders for a girl. I started feeling... ohmygoodness what was that? MOTivATEd! I had to type that all weird because the skin is starting to fall off my hand where I got BURNED a couple weeks ago and it hurts to type because the skin is all brand new and it's not used to farm life abuse.
Anyhoo where was I? Oh, I was motivated. I was so motivated that I was about to get out the snow shovel and start at one end of the living room when I decided I'd better ask my dear husband (who has yet to earn himself a "blog nickname" any suggestions?) what room he wanted me to start in on. I had to ask him about three times, swearing I'd have a mental collapse if I had to figure out where to start all on my own, until he answered. Well bless his little heart, he chose the kitchen.
First thing this morning, I got up, woke the kids and then proceeded to have a battle with my 6th grader as she was packing up for outdoor school. How is it that this child, who READS the list of things to do and not to do, thinks she's immune to the rules? Anyway, after 17 requests for her to change into JEANS instead of shorts or capris or skirts or leggings or knickers, we were off to school. I plopped her in the parking lot, and whizzed the other two kids to the elementary school and then was back home ready for a nap. My husband, of all things to ask, looks at me with this FACE and says... mmmmm... breakfast casserole. Need I remind you of my BURN INJURY? I told him he was still grounded from asking me for breakfast, and that we had lots of yogurt if he was interested.
I followed him out to the door, and prepared to tackle the kitchen with a vengeance unseen or unheard of in this little valley. Well, my little imaginary valley anyway. First, I gave my coffee pot a once-over. Evidently I don't use it enough because I don't think coffee makers are supposed to get dusty. Then, I downed a jug of vitamin water with the word ENERGY on the side. RIGHT! I need ENERGY! Give me more of that! I put a pot of coffee on to brew and headed for the stereo. For some reason, I can't figure out how to program a radio station on the newfangled thing, so I spent the next 5 minutes trying to get it to the right place, and the right volume. Then, had to make a mad dash for my sons' room (as the 5 yr old was still snoring) and shut the door. Heaven knows I can't clean house with a 5 year old WANTING things from me.
The kitchen loomed like a dark cavern, luring me to enter, but threatening to never let me escape. Boy was I right, no sooner had I opened one cupboard to shuffle things around a bit (to make room for a too-large recipe box that was taking up counter space) did I knock a jar of jam onto the floor. It wasn't one of those rubberized jobs that bounces back, noooo, it was a homemade jam-bomb in a jar and let me tell you when those puppies hit the floor they don't hold anything back. I heard glass hitting the windows and pelting my stoneware that was on the counters. My day was off to a great start. So, instead of bursting out in tears, I decided to laugh at myself. Then, I took a picture. I mean really, what else could you do?
About 2 hours later I had discovered that there was indeed, a countertop in one corner of my kitchen. It was my "pile" corner. I hate piles. I hate them so much I try to cover them up with stuff. I replaced the silly hi-wa-yan plate that held various pens, pencils, scissors, doohickies and thingamabobs along with 18 different phone and battery chargers with three very cute galvanized pots (for plants, is why I bought them in the first place, but all my plants are still seeds, so who needs pots?) and then I organized them all cute-like and I sat down for a break. I set my timer to force me to get up after about 10 minutes, and while I checked my email, I found KL on instant messenger so I challenged her to get off her bum and clean her sink too. (Now, I truly do expect a photo of that sink girlfriend!! If you don't post it, I'll post the pic of your bedroom. Right here. Where everyone can see.)
Ok, really people, I would never do that. And mainly, because she has a pic of MY bedroom in the "before" stage and I would seriously DIE if anyone ever saw that. Some friends are good friends because of what they can use against you, ya know?
So on my day went. My son did wake at some point, because I heard him yelling at the playstation (which misbehaves a LOT, he says) and I stopped for a melted cheese sammich somewhere around 2 pm, since it really only takes 29 seconds from start to finish to prepare. I ate it while throwing stale crackers (from the now cleaned-out cupboard) to the chickens. They were happy, I was happy, wouldn't ya like to be a happy too?
The microwave got moved to a new location. The microwave even got cleaned OUT, which is a small miracle by itself, and the large chunk of clean countertop made me wish I'd done this job ages ago. I shuffled things here and there, generally from one pile to a smaller pile until I'd weeded out everything that was either staying or going. I have this knack for hanging onto things that "someone" can use. But today was the day the sippy cups went into the garbage. Nobody wanted to come to my house to pick up TWO sippy cups with partially chewed up lids anyway. Gross. What was I thinking?
Somewhere near 4 pm, the no-nickname guy called and said he was headed home. I sort of got nervous all the sudden that he might not LIKE where I moved the microwave, or that he would worry for my safety. It's possible, that the new location closer to the sink could mean an untimely death for me, should the day come that I have the water running, while washing 32 eggs and I slip on a broken jar of jam, grab the microwave for support, accidentally fling it into the sink and then get electrocuted to death. It could happen. Nobody would be surprised either, because I do crazy stuff like that all the time. So, let me just say this one thing... I'll be glad to go like that, even with egg on my face, as long as my kitchen is clean. Now - go clean your kitchen! And I wanna see pictures.