Oopsie, Did I Just Declutter?

Sunday, I accidentally decluttered a pair of purple shorts.  (No, not Daisy Dukes! Just shorts, not that short.)

Let me tell you the tale.

Grandmama came over to visit after church.  She changed PP’s diaper, but as sometimes happens,  didn’t get the new one in place in time.  Yucky!

Obviously, not the real PP!!! 🙂

The upshot was someone had a soaking wet skirt  Not wanting to go home like that, Grandmama borrowed the purple shorts.  I told her not to bring them back, because I never really wear them, due to the fact that they’re, well, short.  (I wear capris or long pants, because nobody wants to see my knees!  Including me!)

Topic 2

Yesterday and today, I only mopped right in front of the recliner, and high chair.  Bad me, I know.  But some is better than none. 

PP has decided to change her schedule  to include 2 hours of fun time between 2 and 4 am. 

800px-Thomas_Eakins_-_Baby_at_Play     (Not PP either.)

(Fun for her, for me, not so much.)  So, losing sleep like that, puts a damper on my motivation.  Excuse, I know, but it’s all I got right now.

But time and motivation for blogging?  Got that  by the ton!!    Funny how that works!

Relapse

Last Thursday, my D.R.E.A.D. relapsed.  Oh, the agony!

agony

AGONY!!

 

Medical Emergency! oooooo-ga     ooooooo-ga!  Isolation Booth, stat!!

As I sat in my recliner, the metal bars descended around my recliner, so that I couldn’t share my cooties germs with the family.  So lonely, all by myself.

prison bars

My sad, lonely cell

 

 

 

Then Saturday night, I escaped long enough to bathe PP.  Yeah!  The prison bars went up, 1/4 of the way.  Sunday night, I mopped up the sea of chocolate pudding under the high chair The bars went 1/2 way up.  Monday, I mopped the 3 square feet right in front of the recliner, and the high chair.  The bars disappeared totally.  Hurray!  I was free!

Green Thumb, Black Thumb

mom preaching

My mama, more commonly known as “Grandmama” (please read with a French accent), has a green thumb.  She grows all manner of plants, and they flourish.    (yes, my real mama).

Hydrangea_serrata_Preziosa_1

She loves to have her hands in the dirt.  (So would that make her a black thumb?)

Flowers make her happy, fresh flowers on the table make her ecstatic!

mom smile

When she had a house, and then a garden apartment, she had beautiful flowers surrounding her.

On the other hand, my sister, brother and I have true black thumbs.

me,curt,michelle

And it’s spread all over our chests! AAAAUUUUUGGGHHHH!!! We’re rotting!!

I’m a tad so dramatic.

Anyhooo, as kids we tried to grow veggies.  Never worked, NEVER!

I wonder if it had something to do with Brother pulling them up to see if they were growing???

Naaah, that couldn’t be it.

Granny Chaney gave me African violets after I got married.  One by one they bit the dust.  Then she gave me a Purple Passion plant. (yes, it’s a real plant! Google it.)  Surprise, surprise! (not) it died.

Finally, in exasperation, she gave me a cactus, declaring “Now, I know you won’t kill this.”

Who knew?????  Watering a cactus kills it.  Color me surprised.

I have a black thumb.  So, I’m the Death Angel for plants.  I’ve accepted it.

So, if you were planning to send me a plant, go ahead and kill it, and send me the obituary.

RIP all the plants past….

gravestones

The Purple Princess

Once upon a time, far, far away, lived a Purple Princess. 

slob, humor, princess

(This is the REAL Princess Eugenie of York. But she’s wearing purple, so I’m “borrowing” her.)

 

In general, she was very happy with her life.  Only 1 thing kept her from complete bliss; her nails were horribleShe was so afraid that when she found her Purple Prince, he would run away screaming when he saw them…  She even had to wear gloves every time she appeared in public, so embarrassing.

One day, as she moped around her royal room, a lady in waiting rushed in, babbling excitedly.. “Your Highness, I’ve found a solution to your troubles!  Come with me!”

Well, the Purple Princess was so thrilled to hear there was hope!!  She followed the lady with alacrity.  They ended up at a castle in the next kingdom.   The Blonde Princess welcomed them in.

“Do you really have a cure for my hideous nails?” queried the Purple Princess.    

“The secret to changed nails is Jamberry,  I promise.” answered the Blonde Princess.  So she showed the Purple Princess plenty of choices, and how to apply them.

 

 

slob, humor, purple nails

“Damsel in Distress, what a perfect choice for me!” exclaimed the Purple Princess! http://www.jamberry.com

Ooooooh, so pretty!!

The Purple Princess left the castle, with her gorgeous Jamcure, and rode home in triumph.

Lo and Behold, the next day her father introduced her to a Purple Prince!  The Purple Princess held out her hand to be kissed.  Dazzled by her beautiful nails, he immediately asked for her hand in marriage. 

After the royal wedding, they rode away into a lavender sunset.

slob, humor, wedding carriage

735px-Royal_Carriage_Wedding_of_Prince_William_of_Wales_and_Kate_Middleton

They were so happily in love, and so thankful for Jamberrys, that they named their first son, Jam, and their first daughter, Berry.

Everyone in the Purple royal family lived happily ever after.

Decluttering my Master Bath Counter

 Here it is in all it’s glory: my master bath counter.

Before:

bathroom counter

Yes, my actual bathroom counter. ewwww, I know.  But, in my defense, I DID tell you I was a slob, remember?

Why do I have a red Big Gulp there?    Ummm, let me think…. Oh yeah, I got it!  I’m gonna use it as dye to test how well I brushed!  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

See the basket there?  (I made it, ya know, in Basket weaving class in Alaska.)

I digress… my point was, see how the blue of the tissue box, brings out the amethyst of the wash cloths?  I normally call ’em wash rags, but since these are “Decor”, they’re wash cloths!)

And notice the beautiful roll of tp.  So very white and soft.

The measuring tape?  Oh, you saw that?  Well, it’s to measure how deep the water is when I give PP a bath.  Don’t want to waste more than 55 gallons washing 1 little baby.  And no, I didn’t throw her out with the bath water!  (Just in case you were worried, DD1.)

The kitchen soap?  Ummm.. well… let’s see…. just in case I run out of my pump soap, and I can’t see that huge jug of refill soap, because I have clutter blindness, then I’ll need something to wash with, right?

All the rest of the stuff is necessary bathroom stuff.  It just doesn’t need to be on the counter.  But hey, if I put it away, how ever will I find it again?? Out of sight, out of mind!

Now is when I’m supposed to post the

After:

Except there isn’t one yet.  Guess why?  Ding, ding, ding! You got it in 1!! Maybe I’ll watch another Hoarders, and get busy cleaning.

Or not.  I’m IN recovery, not recovered.   I’ll be sure and let you know when it happens.  By, perhaps, a blog post about it???

Hoarders

I admit, I’m addicted to Hoarders, and Hoarding: Buried Alive.

(Not my actual room, just  look a like).

800px-Hoarding_living_room

My motivation to watch used to be comparing myself with them, so I’d feel better about my house.  Hey, at least I don’t have rats!!  At least I can see my floor!

Wait, NO! Don’t go in THAT room!

Okay, so I have 1 hoarded room.

But it’s all good stuff!  I need it!  Some of it I plan to sell!  What if I get rid of it, then need it again in a month?  Some of my books are out of print, and irreplaceable!

Sound familiar?? Yep, I use all the classic hoarder’s excuses.

But I don’t have a hoarding problem.  Nuh-uh.  No siree bob.

Not me.

Well, ….maybe me.      A little.      Some.

Let’s just face it.

Hi, my name is Melinda, and I’m a hoarder.

(Greek chorus) Hi, Melinda!

Thank God I don’t need a dumpster to haul away tons of trash outta my house.

slob, humor, dumpster

Lovely, isn’t it?

 

But remember back in the beginning, when I said I had 13 gallons of trash?  Yeah, and I still have the rest of the room to go through.  That was only from about 10 boxes .  sigh

So, admitting you have a problem is the first step in solving it, right?

I don’t expect a miracle cure, but inch by inch, it’s a cinch.  If you believe it, you can achieve it.  And every other little inspirational rhyme you can think of.

After a huge dose of Hoarders motivation; (I watched 3 in a row.  It’s just like passing a wreck, you can’t help but look!!)

Sunday  night

I

unloaded the dw

loaded the dw

scrubbed the wok

cleaned the baby’s sports bottles

and , hold onto your hats!!

scrubbed the double sinks!!

barefooted, in the kitchen, but not pregnant, Thank God!! That ship sailed loooong ago!

Tuesday I plan to sweep and mop while PP is on her walk.  We’ll see!

 

 

 

PS, I did it. Only  half heartedly, but I did it.  Hip, hip, hurray!

 

Labor Day

Labor Day is celebrated in honor of all the millions of people who helped build this wonderful country.  And it’s a wonderful thing. 

workers

But, I happen to be partial to the other meaning of labor- the ladies only one.

Gravid_-_pregnant_woman

Now, I know we have Mother’s Day, but be real, if we’re gonna talk labor, we own that word!! 

First of all, we do the work of toting the precious bundle for 9 months.  Sometimes to the detriment of our backs, feet, and shopping.   What??? Did you enjoy shopping when you were 9 months plus? In the summer? In Florida???  Me neither.

Of course, I was blessed enough to give birth in Feb.  Both times.  (Sorry for the rest of ya!!)

Then, we go through the actual process of “labor”.  AS if we poor, ignurt wemmin folk wood’n know it waz hard werk, if our betters dint tell uz so.    Oopsie, is that my cynicism showing?

Then we get a whole 3 days to “rest and relax” in the hospital.  IF you have good insurance!  Who do they think feeds, changes,bathes, and generally tends the baby???

Then you get to take baby home, to join the rest of the family.  And you will never sit down again, for the rest of your life!!

Why so much rest in these 2 sentences, since mamas don’t get any?  One of the mysteries of the universe….

Anyway, mamas labor 24/7/365.  And if you work outside the home, you work 30/9/365.  How do wothm ( work outside the home mothers) do it????  Bless you all, inside, outside, upside down- we all work hard,and it’s not a competition!!

So, I propose, we annex Labor Day, and add it to Mother’s Day.  Who’s with me?  After all, don’t we deserve 2 burnt toast breakfasts in bed every year??

A_piece_of_toast_with_eyes(Here’s looking at you, dear.)