Orange You Glad You Don't Live Here?

A new project was in order for my cleaning/purging. I am still putting off the hall closet and the garage, so I opted for something semi-challenging – my bathroom. The master bathroom in my house has always been my least favorite room and as a consequence I have not done much in the way of updating it in the 20-plus years we have lived here. When we bought this house we agreed that the room needed to be gutted, we just haven’t gotten around to it yet. One of the last home improvement projects I undertook before I began working full time (seven and a half years ago) was painting the master bathroom. This was when a paint treatment called glazing was all the rage. I had a vision of turning my bland and boring white bathroom walls and ceiling into something resembling a warm Tuscan sunset. What I ended up with looks like the inside of a cantaloupe. Every time I step into my bathroom, which could be upwards of 20 times a day, I am reminded of the story of Cinderella when her fairy godmother turns a pumpkin into a coach to take Cinderella to the ball. This room really needs a new paint job. I would welcome the former bland and boring white with open arms.

This blog is not about redecorating or remodeling my house. It is about purging my home of 20 years worth of crap, so I won’t blog about a painting project (unless I get really desperate for something to blog about). But I will blog about ridding the bathroom of all of the unnecessary “stuff” so I can get it ready to paint. I have many cabinets and drawers full of “stuff” and I plan to begin cleaning them tomorrow. I have had more than enough cantaloupe and pumpkin for one day.

Junk in the Trunk

If you listen to hip hop music the title of this blog has an entirely different meaning from the one I intend. I am blogging about cleaning out the back of my SUV, not a trunk exactly, but I really wanted to use this title so sue me for using a little poetic license. I went out of town this weekend and had to use the back of my SUV for bags, which made me think about the “stuff” I routinely store in the back of my vehicle. This is quite a large cargo storage area and I can’t resist stashing “stuff” when I have such a roomy option.

I usually carry around some miscellaneous recycling stuff, either boxes full of glass or plastic bottles awaiting drop off at my neighborhood recycling center or empty boxes or sacks making the return trip back to the house.

I also keep dog “stuff” in the back of my car. An orange and black velour blanket I try to put on the back seat when the dogs go on car rides with me, a spare leash, and a few dog treats. (My bank gives these at the drive-thru window when the dogs are with me.)

My husband accuses me of using my vehicle as an office on wheels, and he is partially correct. I have work folders, books, receipts, and sometimes even a portable file box in “the back room of my mobile office.”

Part of my job takes me to a farm, so I always have a hat or two, a couple of jackets, a pair of dirty sneakers, and a pair of work gloves. Sometimes I even carry around gardening tools; a rake or a hoe (and no, I am not referencing the hip hop music theme again).

I would be remiss if I failed to remind you of my garage sale/estate sale addiction. There is usually some evidence of this habit in my car as well.

So, did I clean out the back of my vehicle for this blog? Of course not, I’m just flaunting the junk in my trunk.

Fat, Fats, Fat

My last blog about my Revere Ware pots and pans made me think a lot about cooking. About my grandmother’s cooking, my mother’s cooking, my cooking, my daughters’ cooking. A few months ago Daughter #1 called to ask me about an ingredient in a recipe I sent her. She had requested her grandmother’s, my mother’s recipe for cornbread. I sent it and that was the recipe she was questioning. The recipe called for vegetable oil. My daughter asked if she could use olive oil instead. I told her probably not, then it dawned on me that she probably only had olive oil in her apartment. She had probably never owned a bottle of vegetable oil. I equate this to my experience with my grandmother’s recipes that called for Crisco or worse, lard. I did have a bottle of vegetable oil in my first kitchen, but I did not routinely keep Crisco on hand, and I never, ever had lard in my house (I will refrain from making a “lard-ass” joke here). Believe it or not, there were some recipes from my grandmother that called for lard. How the times, and recipes, have changed over the years – and for the better. I am not an expert on nutrition, but I will venture a guess that my daughter’s kitchen is healthier than mine, and I know that my kitchen was healthier than my mother’s or my grandmother’s. But this begs the question: Why are we fatter today than we were in my mother’s and my grandmother’s day? I have a theory – (not the theory that lard and Crisco are more filling and therefore we eat less) I blame it all on power steering in automobiles.

“What? Power steering,” you ask?

“Yes, power steering.”

Since my grandmother’s and mother’s generation we have eaten healthier foods, but we have gotten less exercise. We have power steering, electric mixers, washing machines, clothes dryers and maids – we don’t get the exercise our mothers and grandmothers did. They were able to “work off” all of that lard and Crisco. What it did to their arteries is another story.

A Clean Mind?

I decided I need an internet purge. I am cleaning my mind of all things internet for at least 24 hours.

The British are Coming, The British are Coming

I cleaned out the kitchen cabinet containing my pots and pans tonight. Other than my nice Calphalon pan I own mostly Revere Ware stainless steel pots and pans, the ones with the copper bottoms. We received a complete set of these pots and pans from my parents when we were married. My mother had always used Revere Ware, so she was insistent that I would use them, too. I had grown up using them and felt right at home with them in the kitchen of our first home during our newlywed years. Coincidentally, my husband’s mother used them also and he inherited hers after her death and had been using them in his bachelor apartment. So, Revere Ware was a family tradition for both of us. Now that my daughters have their own kitchens I hope they will use Revere Ware as well. Daughter #1’s bridal registry included fancy French copper pots and I gave her some of those for Christmas and birthday, but I hope she will add a few Revere Ware copper bottoms to go with their fancy French cousins. Daughter #2’s kitchen is a little more hodge-podge. Her inexpensive college apartment cookware has been supplemented with Revere Ware garage sale finds. I am happy to say my daughters are carrying on the family cookware tradition – their grandmothers would be proud.

I've Got to Clean My Garden

I have been focusing so much on cleaning/purging my house I have neglected my yard, specifically, I have neglected my vegetable garden. Last year, as a romantic gesture for our 29th wedding anniversary, my husband built me an 8’ x 2.5’ raised bed garden planter in a sectioned off portion of our backyard. This section also has large containers for growing tomatoes, cucumbers and herbs. This year I plan to add another raised bed and to plant some in-ground crops. But, (any guesses on what this “but” is going to be?) I need to clean my garden.

The garden area was fenced off from the main yard for twenty years and it became a catch-all for things we didn’t have a place for and a graveyard for things that should have gone to the trash – like broken lawnmowers and propane grills. Add to this a profusion of vinca minor and there was quite a mess. Last year when we installed the first raised bed we did a massive clean up. This year I plan to do an even bigger clean up. I have visions of eradicating the vinca and reclaiming some prime vegetable growing space.

Part of my day job involves a five-acre vegetable farm, another part of my job involves networking with other vegetable growers. Today I had a wonderful afternoon of visiting farms, gardens and potential garden sites and talking to some really nice people about growing things. Two of my dear friends and fellow gardeners accompanied me. Curious, but I have never met a mean gardener; have you?

I was inspired today to get back to my own garden and get it ready to plant, even though it was 26 degrees on Saturday – I’ve got the gardening bug. A sure sign of spring.

Why Does this Always Happen to Me?

Still looking for the fabric-wrapped cord I need to trim out the padded wall in my new home office/guest room. Why is there something so apropos about having a padded wall in my office? I took care of the top two shelves in the linen closet yesterday. Here’s what I discovered when I finished the closet:

• A solid black quilted comforter for a full-size bed - KEEP
• Four sets of sheets for a king-size bed - KEEP
• One set of sheets for a queen-size bed - KEEP
• Two sets of sheets for a twin bed - KEEP
• An ugly pale pink blanket - KEEP
• A hot-pink fleece throw - KEEP
• A Looney Tunes throw - KEEP
• A box containing several baby blankets - KEEP (I am the self appointed keeper of my daughters' sentimental belongings, even if they don't realize they are sentimental.)
• A bag containing baby blankets, caps and booties knitted by my grandmother, before she lost her eyesight, for potential future great-grandchildren - KEEP
• Twelve beautifully colored and patterned cotton flour sacks that I will one day hem to make tea towels - KEEP
• A large assortment of unmatched sheets and pillowcases that I am THROWING AWAY – how much do you want to bet that within the month someone will ask me for an old sheet?
• Silk screened pillow cases from Daughter #1’s elementary school days. Every year the class favor was a class designed pillow case - KEEP (see keeper of sentimental things explanation)
• Mosquito netting from Daughter #2’s Girl Scout camping trips. She was (is) so bug phobic that her Dad had to construct a frame out of pvc pipe, that he duct taped to her camp bunk, that perfectly fitted the mosquito netting. No bugs were getting to that girl! TOSS
• An assortment of aprons I don’t want to get rid of. One was my husband’s when he was a toddler made by his grandmother - KEEP
• A teddy bear made by me out of an antique blue chenille bedspread - GARAGE SALE
• The custom made bumper-pads from Daughter #2’s baby bed - GARAGE SALE
• Two wool blankets I bought at a garage sale because they reminded me of blankets we had when I was a kid, had dry cleaned, and haven’t ever used because they are too scratchy - GARAGE SALE
• Two ironing board covers - KEEP
• Two fleece throws I buy for the dogs. It is easier to replace their bedding when it gets dirty than try to wash them. I figure this is way cheaper than having to have a plumber clean the drain if I were to wash the used ones - KEEP
• An ironing board, an iron, and two cans of spray starch - KEEP (unfortunately)

All of this “stuff”, but still no cording. I am so tempted to just remake it! But, remember "the story of my life" from yesterday? If I remake the fabric covered cord, the original will show up. I am so frustrated, because I know it is in this house somewhere - but where? That is the question. Really, the better question is: Why does this always happen to me?