The house was pristine when we bought it. I’m sure that the previous owners had a team of cleaners, had OCD or possibly both together. Hub merely insinuates that perhaps the previous owners had more than a passing aquaitance with their vaccuum cleaner. In my defence, housework is such a futile activity when we have three little tornados undoing my efforts instantly; big tidying is only to be contemplated when we have Visitors. Plus, I was game enough to move four days after giving birth and surely that counts for something!
Six months on and the house is a complete pigsty and even I have to admit that it would be nice if we could ocasionally see the carpet of the house that we are mortgaged to the hilt for.
Unfortunately, the vaccuum cleaner seems to feel the same way as I do and requires a ten minute break for every few minutes of suction. Consequently, it takes about two hours to vaccuum the house.
I’m not terribly enthusastic about ironing either. Try as I might, I can’t see the point in ironing bedclothes. The bottom one is stretched over the mattress, that’s flat enough for me. Ditto, T-shirts, which are stretched taut when you wear them. The only things I do iron are Hub’s shirts, although his colleagues have commented that even after my efforts, they are less than smooth. Still, everything is relative and compared to the rest of our clothes which always have a corrugated look about them, a little rumpling at the edges is of small consequence.