A Day in the Life of a Homebody

I find I get a lot more done if I have a to-do list. It somehow gets me over the hump when my motivation is flagging. So here is today's list, and I didn't even start it until noon, so I'm not done yet. The goal was to do each listing for an hour.

1. Knitting x
2. Kitchen
3. Housework x
4. Music x
5. Give it 100 (Goal setting site) x
6. Reading x
7. Writing
8. Crochet or Weaving

It's 7:30 P.M. and I still have 40 minutes to go in the kitchen (not counting making dinner), an hour of writing and an hour of crochet. So far the only thing I've written today is this blog post.

For #5 I worked on juggling and mandolin. So mandolin counts for music as well. It's not a perfect system. My back is complaining loudly right now so the dishes are going to have to wait until I can stand at the sink again.

I made some progress on my desk as part of housework. Of course I had other things I had to do that weren't on the list like care for the chickens, check the tomatoes for bugs, feed the cat, answer a letter and walk to the mailbox and back 3 times. I spend more time just walking around the 1/2 acre that is my yard. The garden is in the very back and the mailbox is in the very front. I feel like I'm walking laps all day.

I better get back to it.

Learning to play scales on my mandolin.

Goofing around with my juggling rings.

Apple Valley, CA sunset

Ugh Housework

I envy my friends and family that are good at cleaning and love to do it. I apparently have no Mary Poppins DNA whatsoever. Every minute spent washing dishes is total misery. I never get to the point with keeping house that I can smile and say, "Oh that's so much better now that it's clean and organized." In fact when a house is too clean it makes me twitchy. I hate packing. I hate unpacking. I hate giving yard sales where people paw through all my stuff & want everything for $1. I hate moving furniture. And everyone I've ever had a relationship figures women clean house, that's what they do, and they are so sorely disappointed.  I should come with a disclaimer: Doesn't do windows, or floors, or scrub tile.

Now don't get me wrong. I can work in a yard all day and be quite content. I can sew beads on for hours on end. I can paint empty houses inside or out and I love it. But sit me in front of a junk drawer or a garage that needs a makeover and I'll either be angry for the next 8 hours or burst into tears or both. Part of it has to do with being an empath, and part of it has to do with psychometry. Touching things overwhelms me with emotions and memories of my kids growing up, my divorce, my unhappy childhood, friends that have died, jobs I've had and lost, moves made under great stress, etc.

If I was ever rich the first thing I would do is hire housekeepers and scullery maids. Then I could spend my life on things I'm actually good at instead of feeling like a prisoner in my own home.