We have some dear neighbors who have been through some real hard times lately. I won't say; it's their story. Suffice to say there is no such thing as enough sympathy...... The dad of the family stops in every now and then to talk to the boss. There are many decades of friendship there and they can always talk....
The house always looks like a cyclone touched down on those days and I always apologize and wish it was clean. Not that it is ever very clean, but it is sometimes worse than other times.
This morning I woke up and thought, 'I've got to get this kitchen in order because x is going to stop today. It would be nice if was clean for a change.'
I just had a feeling.....Of course I didn't think it was really going to happen, but I dabbled around doing some dishes and picked up a bit here and there.....it's still a mess, but somewhat less of a mess than it was when I got up.
And then came the knock on the door....yeah, as a dear friend said the other day.... We are all connected in our minds, some closer than others.....
So there is some therapeutic talking over of the old times of farming going on all around me. The kitchen is still a mess....maybe later, maybe later.
Or maybe not.
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6 comments:
I never judge how people's houses look if there is a friendship going. Or actually even if there isn't.
There is just no doubt that our minds connect in ways we have yet to understand.
I'll bet he didn't mind the mess at all :)
My house is always a mess...there just seems to be other things I more enjoy doing than CLEANING a house.
Linda
I always loved visiting a home as a family friend that didn't have to be redd up for. I may have spelled 'redd up' wrong, but that was what one did for the preacher, teacher or bosses that may have scheduled a stop by to see how things were going. The conversations were as heart felt as the preparation time spent trying to put a good face on the home.
Ever had a visitor's parlor? You were early middle class when you had an extra room to be kept perfect for whomever dropped by. By my baby boomer youth, the union workers were investing in homes that had a perfect living room, the kids and family hung out in the kitchen and familyroom in the basement, and if one were to be really tacky, the clear plastic covers never came off that furniture until the President visited.
Oh, how I relate! I just can't rid myself of shame over my messy house, nor can I convince myself that cleaning it is more important than going out for a walk in nature's just-as-untidy home. I certainly never judge my friends by the state of their housekeeping, so why do I imagine they judge me for mine?
Jan, I don't either, except perhaps to be delighted when I visit people who aren't a lot tidier than I. lol But I still always cringe.
Cathy, I do believe it!
Linda, your garden is neater than my kitchen. lol
Earl, I think you did spell it right...and you have seen the worst we had to offer. I still loved meeting you and treasure the memory of your visit. I remember those same days....Our house btw has an extra parlor with a fancy mirror and all. It is not employed in its intended use.
Jacqueline, there are so many things more interesting than cleaning the same things over and over again. Before so many people lived here I used audio books and music through my headphones to make the job more bearable. However now I am always interrupted so many times that I have given up on that. I am sure I worry about nothing and am not even noticed but....
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