My mother was what some may call a neatnic. In my childhood home dusting furniture was not done with a feather duster. I was taught to use two rags. One would be soaked with furniture polish and the other was used to rub the polish to a luster. When making my bed the sheets were kept taut and smooth with the top one folded over the blanket an even three to four inches. When Mother ironed clothes they had been sprinkled, rolled up individually and allowed to sit for a while wrapped in a tea towel. Then ironing was done with the iron at just the right temperature. Most garments were ironed on the wrong side. This allowed the natural weave of the cloth to be seen. My mother taught me that being neat, keeping the house in order, having things not just clean but super clean is an art. Though our home was modest, it was immaculate. I understood her pride and satisfaction in this though I have never achieved her success in practicing it.
In my own home my natural artistic bent helps. My eye needs to be pleased. A picture must not be allowed to hang crookedly. Dirty dishes in the sink are offensive, but ironing can be hidden and the job put off. I’ve not been able to keep to a schedule for housekeeping but the one thing that has worked for me is to do what needs to be done promptly, leaving a room the way I’d like to see it when I come back. I call that the Trail of Neat.
I tried to teach my children to be neat but found it a lost cause. All the coaxing and scolding in the world would not engage them in the game of being neat. I realized too late there was a reason for that. Eventually Mom (yours truly) would come in and do the job. They found out soon enough when they were on their own how to set the threshold of tolerance for a messy house and nowadays they are often better at housekeeping than I am.
As years have gone by I have grown more lax. If I don’t leave a trail of neatness I just tackle the job later when it has become an assault on my conscience. I’ve put more interesting pursuits first and sometimes they were worth more than a neat trail. However, I still need to get a room into shape before sitting down to read or write. Otherwise every glance up from the page will be a distraction, an irritation resulting in an exercise of getting in and out of my recliner chair. And that's no fun!
Housekeeping, I’ve discovered, is closely akin to one’s mental status. Nothing quite satisfies the psyche like a sparkling clean and orderly house. After I get this piece posted on my blog I intend to do something about that. Well, it’s late tonight. The clock just chimed twelve. Maybe in the morning? Or the next day? Oh well, my eyes will be closed soon. Nothing can offend closed eyes in a dark room. And nothing can cover a trail of tasks undone or salve the guilty conscience better than a good night’s sleep.
Like you, we like the concept of neatness, but it's the execution that can be wearing. What has worked for us is to schedule a monthly or bimonthly activity in which people come over to our house for bridge, or dinner and a movie, or some other activity. Then we HAVE to clean at least a core of the house that will be occupied by our guests! The rest of the time, the house goes into what we often call "Project Mode." Certain things do get done,--like dishes into the dishwasher. And Nancy is THE best at getting laundry done clean and folded and magically these things appear in my dresser or closet without my ever saying a word. That's worth a big bunch to me! WK
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