Houisekeeping

Last night I began wrapping Christmas presents and as a result the living room and hall guest bedroom became strewn with crumpled tissue paper, sad looking crushed bows, twenty different sizes of gift bags, plastic bags, 12 rolls of half-used scotch tape, name tags that don't coordinate with any of the wrapping paper I am using, and the two markers and one pair of scissors that keep getting lost in the debris.  When I got up from the floor last night at 11 pm, I was 95-year-old stiff and every joint was popping.  So when I got upstairs to go to bedroom I found out why -- the 800mg of ibuprofen I take every morning to alleviate my arthritis was still in the little pill pocket container for "Monday" "breakfast".  But I digress.

As a result of all of this exuberance last night,  and the resulting explosion, I spent 45 minutes this morning cleaning the house before the arrival of the housekeeper.  Yeah.  Don't tell me I'm the only one who does this!!!!!!!!  Not only picking up and trying to organize all of the Christmas debris (including the empty boxes from the decorations I had unpacked on Sunday), but also loading all of the dirty dishes and picking up the spoon on the counter that still had cat food on it.   It used to be that I was at work when the housekeeper came, and all I had to do was remember to leave a check on the dryer in the mudroom, and come back at 6:00 to a house that sparkled so blindly I was reminded of those cartoons with the SPARKLING GOLDEN SUN RAYS.  But no more.  Now I am home when the housekeeper comes, unless I have arranged to be out (kinda hard to arrange since I never know precisely  when she will be here).  If I am still déshabillé', she starts downstairs so I can get dressed and yearn to be downstairs making a snack.  If I am downstairs, then she starts upstairs, while I yearn to be at the computer upstairs.   So she can't win either way.

I am blessed with what I think is the world's best housekeeper.  This place is not so easy to clean -- two floors, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, living/dining room, mudroom, upstairs office, kitchen, pantry and covered back porch.  And lots of collections and stuff sitting around (I am trying to edit this massive amount of stuff, but it is challenging). But Maria is inevitably cheerful  (if sometimes overly chatty about her latest round of health battles -- I swear she is worse than an old woman) and does a wonderful job, even changes the sheets.  Sometimes in the summer, she will even cut roses from the garden and put them in a vase on my dining room table.  But oh, the joys of a freshly scrubbed kitchen sink, waxed wood furniture, and properly fluffed cat hair-free pillows on the sofa!  If only for a day before it starts to deteriorate again.  I am a person who hates disorganization and clutter, which is why I break out into hives when I enter Rodthecarguy's office in the shop!!!!  And why I have kept a housekeeper even though I am retired.

Maria is the daughter of Natalie and Manuel, who have since retired and moved to the Azores, where they have owned property for years.  Natalie was my housekeeper before Maria, and Manuel used to do yard work for me before he dug up my asparagus bed and destroyed all of the asparagus that takes years to establish and produce edible asparagus.

So I guess today she will likely start downstairs, working around the pile of presents in front of the entertainment center (those are the ones I need to pack and ship to Amy, Aaron, and Sarah) because it is quarter to ten and I am still in my pjs and robe and have not even done my yoga yet (waiting for the drugs to kick in).