Weekend Project # 4

My grandmother was fastidious and tidy. My grandfather didn’t mind “a little dirt here and there”. There is the saying that certain character traits skip a generation. In my case, they seem to have swapped places.

My house is, while no operating room, fairly clean. I take care of my kitchen especially, even in winter when the non-existing insulation automatically keeps the cockroaches at bay. I check Pumpkin’s litter box twice a day, vacuum as needed (more often in summer, thanks kitty), and I dispose of my garbage regularly and as quickly as possible.

At the same time, I have to confess that I’m not very tidy. Books and paperwork are my Achilles heel, they accumulate at a frightening speed and have a tendency to cover every flat surface that can conceivably be called a desk or table. There, they vie for space with other things I just can’t seem to put away the first time around.

So much to explain (justify?) why it took me two years and three months to tidy my garage, the current state of which is this:

All I needed to do was to move the large box to the other side of the space, put empty moving boxes away and put some hooks into the door. Together with sweeping and even cleaning my bicycle, it took less than two hours in total. I blame my ancestors.