The Semi-Annual Clean: Doggy Detection

So... I hate our rental house.

I know we are lucky to have it, the yard is huge, and we had no other options for a place to live.

I get that. I should be thanking my lucky stars. Though I don't know if I actually own lucky stars, and if I do, which box they were packed in from Ontario, but I digress.

The house smells. And it's grungy. And it's got some serious structural problems and is cracking everywhere. It's the smell, combined with the aroma of two dogs' farts, that really sends me into stomach convulsions most days.

So, here my enthusiasm is nil. I withdraw into myself and don't have much get-up-and-go. Needless to say, between the hubby's work and play schedule and my general malaise and  laziness   shameful housewifery  couch-potato-ness   fatigue, the house has been, shall we say, neglected?

It's hard to be  even willing  enthusiastic to clean a place that CAN'T BE SCRUBBED. Shit is so dirty and had previously been SO NEGLECTED that it simply cannot be scrubbed clean or made devoid of the stains and spots that seem to be everywhere.

So as the MLS real estate papers pile up, the "need to file" paper list expanded, and the tables seemed to become covered with crap, I felt no pressing need to rectify anything. It was like "who'll notice?" and even "it looks better covered up", etc.

Well kids, that all changed when the Hubs let me in on a little secret. A good friend would be staying with us for a couple of nights.

HOLY HELL.

A minor sampling of what I let it get to. And the Dane. I'll let you imagine the fart/house odour.

 It's amazing what shame and embarrassment can do for a girl. I highly recommend it. Not only does it make you feel gross and inadequate, but it could make my queasy, apathetic ass turn it into high gear in the matter of a day.

The Hubs turned  me  it on. He let me go to bed early last night while he did all the large-awkward-not-immediately-needed dishes that were in the queue. He vacuumed the stairs and all the upper floor carpeting (well, you know, AROUND the stacked up piles of my shit everywhere). He gathered up all the crap that he could. He cleaned both bathrooms and scrubbed the tub. He's a good man. A lifesaver, even.

So today was my job to "tidy" up, which doesn't sound nearly as terrifying and all-consuming as it turned out to be. (Flair for the dramatic much? No, not meee.)

I did at least 9 loads of laundry. I found a pile of delicates I left because the rain started and I couldn't dry my stuff outside, so I figured I would wait for a nice day before washing it. I remembered one dress I wore to Jericho Beach and that was back in mid-September. LAUNDRY HAD BEEN SITTING THERE FOR TWO MONTHS... dear Jebus.

I washed the guest bedding, the towels, my clothes, blah blah blah.

Didn't even have a fraction of the time required to actually SORT through all the papers everywhere, so took hours just GATHERING. I wish I was joking here, but I am not.

I would have posted pictures, but the Hubs probably would have divorced me.

The best part? The dogs damn well know that we are having company today. Schultz, the Dane, has been on the lookout with hyper-sensitive-hearing all damn day.

How could the dogs know, you ask? Considering we've had two guests in the house so far?

BECAUSE SCHULTZ KNOWS I ONLY CLEAN WHEN STRANGERS ARE COMING INTO THE HOUSE.

Not only is that fascinating, it's also terribly sad.

Those two guests I mentioned? Our moms. At different times.

So not only am I a horrible house wife, I have no friends I can invite over. lol. Truth be told, I don't WANT people to see this house and its grossness. I want to get into our new house, but that's not happening until mid-February.

So, I still need to put away my semi-wet delicates. I have to hide that stack of piled papers in my bedroom closet. And I have to pretend that the dogs aren't strung out on stranger crack and hope that the Dane isn't a jackass when our friend arrives.

Wish me luck.


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