The Freecycling Misssymartin
I’ve really been living la vida loca this weekend. I have spent my entire Saturday cleaning out the debris from Indy’s Temple of Doom. Louis’s bedroom managed to cough up 7 black bags of utter crap by the time I’d finished and at the end of it all I dropped to my knees “Shawshank Redemption” style, looked heavenward and thanked the Lord for deliverance from housework hell. I’m nothing if not a drama queen. You know that.
The exercise gave me a chance to lose my “Freecycle” virginity however. “Freecycle” is a nationwide internet community dedicated to giving items you don’t want anymore a new home. It’s like Ebay but for free. It’s a Utopian reality and am now a disciple. ( Hey, I’m heavy on the religious rhetoric today, aren’t I?)
I have been a member of the Aberdeen branch for about 5 months but until yesterday never did anything about it. So yesterday, I listed all Louis’s Action Men (in various states of undress- it was like chucking out time in a 1970′s San Francisco nightclub in that box), two wardrobes, walkie talkies, bean bag and duvet cover, numerous books and videos and a metal detector that seemed a great idea at the time.
Within half an hour all had been snapped up, and today most of it has been collected by grateful people bringing me gifts of biscuits and chocolate (how did they know?)
The reason for this mass clearout is not that I have become a clean freak (I can only dream…); it’s that we are to be hosts to a couple of teachers from the Sri Lankan Blind School we visited last year, and they will be staying in Indy’s Temple of Doom.
That last paragraph makes the whole enterprise sound like an episode of Blue Peter but actually we’re not entirely sure what the deal is with these Sri Lankans. We met them for an afternoon last July when we delivered funds that Turriff Academy had raised for them, and vowed to keep in touch.
Within a couple of months the English teacher emailed and said she was going to visit us for a month. She would be bringing another teacher. It transpired that the other teacher would be a man. So you need two bedrooms, then? Actually no, one will do. Oh and I’m now using my maiden name…..
Arms crossed, knowing glances, Les Dawson style. Aha!
So, why are they coming over for a month, how are they going to finance this trip, what will be doing when they get here? John turns all protestant and moral, “I am not hosting a Sri Lankan shag fest!”
Anyway, they were supposed to arrive today but apparently their visas have been refused. The government is not satisfied that they have enough money to support themselves for a month. But watch this space, they are determined to come and I’m guessing there’s blogging mileage in this puppy yet….
Cleaning House
For the past couple of years I’ve set my students a production brief called, “Pet Hates”. The deal is they have to make a five minute (ish) video on something that drives them mad or that they would like eliminated from this world. It’s kind of Room 101-ish, I suppose.
In the past we’ve had some corkers; “Neds” is a favourite of mine from last years’ graduates and it went down a storm at the Belmont Cinema Showcase last year. It presumably struck a chord with those who would like to see the use of firearms legalised in the elimination of the neds… This year we had a terrific one from 3 students on ” Canvassers”- where the hero of the film was a guy harassed by one of those guys you get trying to sell you something outside M&S. Very funny.
But dealing with an age range of 17-30 year olds and sadly, mostly males, no one yet has suggested my own personal pet hate as a subject, but I pray one day it’ll come up. My pet hate is HOUSEWORK. I hate it! I Hate it! I HATE ITTTTTT!
I’m generally happy with my lot, however,every single day of my life I wish for some dramatic change in my personality and /or circumstances. I wish fervently that I would become:
A naturally tidy person, OR;
Someone who takes joy in household tasks, OR;
Someone who has a cleaner.
My husband, John, got a digital camera for Christmas and once he got round to testing it out he took random photo of me folding laundry. The result was horrific and hilarious at the same time. I looked so utterly pissed off, it was frightening. I had developed jowls, creases on my forehead and a firmly turned down bottom lip. Now, I spend a hell of a lot of my time folding the laundry of four people and to think that this is what it does to me. It should be against the Human Rights Act.
You see these poor women on “10 Years Younger” (which I MUST watch every week- obsessive, y’see?) and usually their horrific aging is usually down to smoking, sunworshipping or bad dentistry. Mine is due to HOUSEWORK. There I’d be with Vicky Hambleton-Jones and she’d be looking at my photo album.
“Now, Gillian, here we have a photo of you at aged 17. At this point your Mum was mainly picking up after you, doing your laundry and generally being your own personal slave. I must say, you look terrific…..But here we see you at 25, you’ve got your own flat and I can see from the bags under your eyes that you’re even struggling to keep a one bedroom flat tidy…we can see the aging process beginning…..But here’s the real turning point at aged 35 you’ve two kids, a three bedroom house and numerous moggies..you’re really starting to look incredibly shit….
If I were sitting on the black chair in front of Tarrant on “Millimaire” (as my son calls it) and he asks what the first thing I would spend the million on, my answer would be a firm, “Household Staff, Chris.” But Chris wouldn’t understand, never having to lift a manicured finger in his pampered life.
I recently saw that “Sex Inspectors” programme on Channel Four. Channel surfing- didn’t book it or nuffing…..Anyway, the sexpert lady handed the male half of the guinea pig couple a box and told him that inside was the answer to the question, “What turns women on most?” Ignorantly, Mr Guinea Pig said “It”ll be a load of sex toys”. What a chump! How wrong could one man be? What actually lurked inside the box was a male sized pinny, Marigolds and cleaning equipment. No, this wasn’t a bizarre fetish, it was simply this; actual bona fide research has shown that women feel more relaxed, energetic and loving towards their husband if the husbands helped out with the cleaning. It’s simple really; less drudge equals more time for extra curricular stuff; sex included.
Now, in the past week John has made up a household rota which he claims is the answer to our prayers…housework is just about the only thing we argue about. He claims he didn’t see the programme…..
I don’t want to give them impression that my house is like a landfill site; it’s usually ok and generally quite clean but it takes a hell a lot of effort on my part and it’s a Sisyphean task, as I’ve no sooner finished then in come the Destroyers (my family and their associates) and the chaos theory takes effect once more. Oh, I’m sure you all know that Sisyphus was the guy in Greek legend condemned by the Gods to roll a giant boulder up to the top of a mountain repeatedly until the end of time….that about sums it up, really.
But the rota seems to be working and we are hoping that it’ll put an end to the kind of petty arguments that sound a little like this,
“This house is bloody mess!!!”
“Well, I tidied it up last April..”
“What about the laundry, you haven’t done any since 1998″
“I have so, I folded some shirts just yesterday”
“Have you EVER washed the kitchen floor? Do you even KNOW where the mop lives????”
“Well, have you ever done the recycling. How come that seems to always be my job?”
Etc… Etc…. You get my drift. The rota is the answer to all our prayers, all power to the rota!!! Yay!
(BTW: If you know anyone who fancies a cleaning job , let me know. Reasonable rates. Must have own marigolds….)
