For a blog entitled Modern Housewife there is a distinct lack of, well, housewifery going on. Really it's because I am poor at it. Very poor. Let's go for extremely poor. Let's be completely honest here. When I get up in the morning my only desire is to make it to the end of the day with the house in a slightly cleaner state than when I woke. I'll admit that as aspirations and goals go it's not my finest but it's also not particularly achievable.
A battle rages here between me and the house on a daily basis. It's not pretty. What I want to know is: how is it that a room can spiral out of control if I walk out of it for a minute? It's like a space time vortex appears from nowhere and sucks debris, toys and organic matter from the past and future and scatters it in the present. It's the only explanation.
Some days it feels like a death match, me versus the house,and on those days I am honour bound to win at any cost but like a zombie the house is back again the next day ( minus the eating of brains bit. Although, now I think on it, my brain has been less responsive of late…)
However, somedays, sometimes the stars align and the house becomes placid and demure and not only do I get it looking magnificent but *gasp* it stays that way…for a couple of days at least. Yesterday was one of those rare days. Rooms got wiped, hoovered and organised. Beds got made, windows thrown open, laundry folded (but not ironed because c'mon!) and toilets meticulously scrubbed. Ridiculous quantities of food got made for freezing such as chili, Lasagne, shortcrust pastry, pasties, pate, pasta sauce, sausages and fresh pasta. On these days I feel like a Goddess in my own home (but without any ardent devotees bringing me gifts, sadly).
(Cornish style pasties from my industrious day)
Don't worry, normality will resume again today but for now, as I stand proudly, legs apart, cape flying (and with some serious backlighting)…Victory is mine!