Archive for the bad housekeeping Category

Lord of the Worms

Posted in bad housekeeping, Embarrassing Moments with tags , , , , , on July 12, 2009 by Ms. Ex

I love to garden. I mean, I love to grow things, I don’t actually enjoy all the hard work. I might be the world’s laziest gardener. But I don’t mind getting dirty, and I adore looking at the little blossoms, watching everything turn all lush and delicious.

And I do like being environmentally responsible and so I recycle and compost. Once, I even bought some worms to have a worm bin.

The worm is a marvelous creature. It eats what is essentially garbage, and shits out this gorgeous, rich stuff that makes plants go wild. It’s like the Spanish Fly of gardening. Worm castings, it’s called.

So anyway, I ordered a shipment of these worms that you can put in a bin, toss in some damp newspapers, and put your food scraps in. Said worms will eat the whole smorgasbord of stuff and you’ll be left with the castings to toss on your garden. Fabulous.

However, I am not a good planner. I have little to no foresight, and rarely look at my calendar. Which doesn’t matter too much, since I also rarely write things in it.

So I ordered the worms – living, wriggling little creatures – and promptly went out of town for several days.

My neighbor offered to bring in my mail, which was wonderfully kind of her. I came home to find a neat stack of mail and one small package. Oddly, there were also small, dark brown squiggles all over my floor, which, on closer inspection, proved to be the bodies of dozens of dehydrated worms.

They made a break for it, and paid the ultimate price for their freedom.

Now, more than a year later, I still occasionally find a little brown squiggle stuck to my floor in some remote corner. I’m amazed at how far some of them made it. I had no idea worms could be so determined, especially since when your shit is worth its weight in gold, you are likely to have lived something of a privileged life.

So that’s my worm story, and the reason you should never send me a living creature in the mail. Just in case you were considering it, I mean.


Why Nothing Gets Done

Posted in bad housekeeping, Embarrassing Moments with tags , , , , on June 15, 2009 by Ms. Ex

I’m sure my wonderful husband always wonders why the house never looks any better when he gets home from work than it did when he left it. It often looks worse, but never better.

So I decided to keep track today of what goes down.

0700 Baby B climbs into my bed and cries mommy mommy mommy while still sleeping.  Four year old, who’s already in the bed, moves over. Toward us, so there’s less room. Then puts his feet on my head.

0730 Baby wakes up for real and starts clawing at my shirt looking for the goods. I politely refuse to give it up.

0800 B is nursing (I caved – so sue me!) while I catch up on my blog reading and tweets. Hey, hubby – I’m not perfect, you know.

0830 Breakfast for baby. Reheat coffee.

0830 Washing dishes from yesterday.  While filling dishpan (no, I do not have a dishwasher), B drops cup full of chocolate milk.  Half of it spills out, but I save the other half and clean up floor.

0845 Half way through dishes and B drops the cup again, losing the rest of the chocolate milk. Decide today will be a floor clean up day. Reheat coffee.

0850 Throw B in the shower to wash off the chocolate milk. Wait a minute – Ethan was up already and decided to get in the shower with B. How did that happen? I’m confused.

0900 Get back to dishes.  Interrupt dishwashing with a quick Facebook break and to share my doula website.  Need fans!

0915 Decide to make corn pudding for hubby because he loves it so. Turn oven on 400 degrees to preheat.

0930 Four year old Ethan wakes up, I make him breakfast then join him for snuggles in bed with Beckett. Also read David Sedaris on the Kindle.

1000 Throw in a load of laundry, then back to the kitchen. Clean the kitchen, eat my own breakfast of leftover steak and pasta salad. Hmmm…that could explain a lot. Get naked baby Beckett dressed and Ethan too so he will be ready when the “guys” (next door kids) come out. Spend ten minuted sock hunting. Similar to snipe hunting.

1020 Collect dirty clothes from all over the place.  Are the dishes finished? Wash a few more dishes, am tempted to interrupt dishwashing to tweet about the wonderful Neal Boortz (@TalkMaster) whom I’m listening to on WLNI. Ok, yeah. Dishes are done.

1100 Man it’s hot in here. Why is the oven on? Oh – corn pudding!  I crack eggs, start the process, then do…what?

1200 Wait a minute! How did it become 1200?? All I was doing was keeping the Bakugans out of the hands of Ethan’s evil archnemesis Beckett, and making sure Beckett only played with the non-metal cards.  And I did tweet a couple of times, I’m sure.  My god, it’s so freaking hot in here!  Damn – the corn pudding!

1210 Is that someone knocking at the door?  Whose van is that outside?  Oh! It’s my friend Teri with her daughters who are here to help me out today!  Wow! I completely forgot.

1215 Put the dog on the back porch and go out to greet my friend in my pajamas and slippers. Like, with no bra. In public and shit. She has no pride, people!

1230 Leave baby crying (?! he never cries about me leaving) and go upstairs to finally finish the corn pudding and my lord is it ever hot in here.

1300 Corn pudding in oven, blog written, help has arrived and now I’m going to take a nap.

Um, I mean – fold laundry! I’m going to fold laundry!

Sheesh. You act like I never do anything.