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floor steamer
Dec. 27th, 2018 10:26 amI own a floor steamer, and it's amazing, and I never use it.
I loaned it to Farmsister. Like, two years ago. Loaned her all the cloths that go with it.
Got the steamer back. Didn't get the cloths back.
Have used it one (1) time since, using an old dishtowel. Which I now can't find.
It's cool, I have a collection of shitty old dishtowels, so.
Anyhow, I have officially swept my kitchen floor, and then immediately swept it a second time, because there was so much filth that the broom couldn't possibly get it all in one pass. And then I steam-mopped it, so. It's filthy, stained, torn linoleum from 1950, it only gets so clean, but it's there now.
Farm-fam is in the car as of 10am, so I'll see them around 3ish. Which is both a week and three hours earlier than they were anticipating being here, so. That's fine.
Dude has been given a list of things to work on today, but apparently will be doing none of them, so it's good I didn't rely on him. (He said he wasn't working today, but he's been frowning at his computer all morning, including to the point where I had to ask him for permission to clean the kitchen since he was sitting in there an hour after I told him I was about to clean the floor. I actually think he is working after all, rather than being an ass, but it's truly incredible-- we have such wide-ranging and comprehensive conversations all the time for fun, but when I actually attempt to, say, ask him for help in specific terms, he literally never understands anything I say and almost every time does exactly what I asked him not to. So it makes me wonder about our philosophical conversations?)
I still have to make the guest-bed, but Chita is in it, and I don't want to disturb her since she'll have no peace once Farmkid gets here. (Farmkid loves cats. Chita does not love children. or strangers at all, really, though when we just have adult friends over she sometimes tries to sleep on their faces, since she considers the guest bed hers. It's extra-funny because she's invisible during the day when there are visitors, so many of these guests have not yet met her when she climbs onto their faces at 4am.)
(Not that we have guests over very often, but.)
One thing I rediscovered in the kitchen is that between the fridge and the sideboard I had a square of old chalkboard slid in there, and it would be fantastic for practicing chalk art lettering on. So I've got that cleaned off and set aside, and I'm going to find a spot for it, and honestly it might be smart to leave it out today for Farmkid to play with later.
I still have hours of tidying left to do, but as I said to my sister, the stuff I was actively ashamed of is at least taken care of. Well, some of it.
I'm mostly just going to shift things to the basement. Oh well. C'est la vie. There's too much stuff to really organize anyway, it needs massive what's-the-word, where you sort through and cull and rearrange and such. Maybe there's not a specific word for that and I'm imagining it.
Oh also I just looked at the stories I posted in 2018 and the first one, I posted on NYE 2017 and it didn't register as such, and I just noticed I never posted the second half of it, which was almost written by then too and then I let it fall by the wayside. So, whoops, maybe I'll have a minute and post that before the end of 2018. Christ, I was awful at publishing this year. But the thing is, I wrote a shitload of stuff. Just-- nothing finished. It's weird and uncomfortable and annoying and I'm pretending it's progress when it really does seem to be the opposite. Oh well!
I loaned it to Farmsister. Like, two years ago. Loaned her all the cloths that go with it.
Got the steamer back. Didn't get the cloths back.
Have used it one (1) time since, using an old dishtowel. Which I now can't find.
It's cool, I have a collection of shitty old dishtowels, so.
Anyhow, I have officially swept my kitchen floor, and then immediately swept it a second time, because there was so much filth that the broom couldn't possibly get it all in one pass. And then I steam-mopped it, so. It's filthy, stained, torn linoleum from 1950, it only gets so clean, but it's there now.
Farm-fam is in the car as of 10am, so I'll see them around 3ish. Which is both a week and three hours earlier than they were anticipating being here, so. That's fine.
Dude has been given a list of things to work on today, but apparently will be doing none of them, so it's good I didn't rely on him. (He said he wasn't working today, but he's been frowning at his computer all morning, including to the point where I had to ask him for permission to clean the kitchen since he was sitting in there an hour after I told him I was about to clean the floor. I actually think he is working after all, rather than being an ass, but it's truly incredible-- we have such wide-ranging and comprehensive conversations all the time for fun, but when I actually attempt to, say, ask him for help in specific terms, he literally never understands anything I say and almost every time does exactly what I asked him not to. So it makes me wonder about our philosophical conversations?)
I still have to make the guest-bed, but Chita is in it, and I don't want to disturb her since she'll have no peace once Farmkid gets here. (Farmkid loves cats. Chita does not love children. or strangers at all, really, though when we just have adult friends over she sometimes tries to sleep on their faces, since she considers the guest bed hers. It's extra-funny because she's invisible during the day when there are visitors, so many of these guests have not yet met her when she climbs onto their faces at 4am.)
(Not that we have guests over very often, but.)
One thing I rediscovered in the kitchen is that between the fridge and the sideboard I had a square of old chalkboard slid in there, and it would be fantastic for practicing chalk art lettering on. So I've got that cleaned off and set aside, and I'm going to find a spot for it, and honestly it might be smart to leave it out today for Farmkid to play with later.
I still have hours of tidying left to do, but as I said to my sister, the stuff I was actively ashamed of is at least taken care of. Well, some of it.
I'm mostly just going to shift things to the basement. Oh well. C'est la vie. There's too much stuff to really organize anyway, it needs massive what's-the-word, where you sort through and cull and rearrange and such. Maybe there's not a specific word for that and I'm imagining it.
Oh also I just looked at the stories I posted in 2018 and the first one, I posted on NYE 2017 and it didn't register as such, and I just noticed I never posted the second half of it, which was almost written by then too and then I let it fall by the wayside. So, whoops, maybe I'll have a minute and post that before the end of 2018. Christ, I was awful at publishing this year. But the thing is, I wrote a shitload of stuff. Just-- nothing finished. It's weird and uncomfortable and annoying and I'm pretending it's progress when it really does seem to be the opposite. Oh well!
