Unfuck Your Habitat

You're better than your mess.

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Even with the house renovations, I’ve gotten quite a bit accomplished today.  A few loads of laundry (time to swap it out now!), dishes, cleaning around the wood stove,  unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, did a bit of floordrobe-busting, a wee bit of vacuuming, and so on.   I even pared down some music for work while I was cleaning.

I even wrangled Best Beloved into repairing the furnace tape/insulation stuff around the stove’s side door, bringing in a mattress from the garage for steam cleaning, and taking in the trash and recycling.

Biggest progress was the bathroom.  Cleaned the whole damn thing, including the tub:


The thing in the tub?  The attachment hose for the rug doctor, which has been there for approximately four weeks.  Also visible are cat paw prints and hard water deposits.



Did the fill-with-hot-water-and-cleanser bit, scrubbed it down, sprayed it down with vinegar, and then wiped it dry.  Who knew that was the solution to keeping things from getting all spotty?  I can’t believe that never occurred to me before reading up on “how clean bathtub” on Ye Olde Google last night. *facepalm*  I even polished the bastard.

I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to coming home and crawling in the tub.  It’s been too damn long.


Slacked off all day yesterday and spent the day in bed (seriously—the only time I put clothes on was to go out and cover the hay when the weather started spitting).  Time to make up for it today.

Lazed in bed til nearly ten, then decided to make things count:

  • stripped the bed and harangued Best Beloved into putting fresh sheets on with me—and promptly made the bed
  • vacuumed the rug and floor of the master bath
  • vacuumed a good portion of the master bedroom, including the car hair from the ottoman at the foot of the bed
  • started unfucking my closet shelves:

The brown bins are upgrades from too-small dollar store bins that I started using earlier this year.  I’ve been using the brown ones for a while, and I’m happy with them.  Today, I refolded the top shelf of shirts, setting aside some that I have just for sentimental value, some to give away, and threw out three or four ratty ones.  I put shelf dividers between the stacks to help keep everything from slumping in to one another (like on the lower shelves).

After that?  Time for laundry.

  • hung up my sadly-languishing work stuff to dry
  • gathered all the towels and washed them with the bedsheets
  • washed the summer comforter and rag rug from the main bathroom
  • hauled out two large bags of trash
  • repurposed a length of tubing

While I was at it, I started working on Phase II of “Making the Laundry Room a Happy Place to Be”:

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I’ve been using a vinegar-and-water solution as my main household cleanser for a few years now, supplemented with a baking-soda-and-castille-soap scrub as needed.  (Seriously, best shit EVAR for the tub.)

The Younger Daughter of the North Wind has come to visit.  The bathroom down in the Toxic Basement was sealed off when we discovered its toxicity; although the toxicity has been resolved, the bathroom was never unsealed.  When YDotNW arrived yesterday, Best Beloved took down the airtight plastic sealing to discover a mildewy scent.

While YDotNW and I were out today, Best Beloved dinked around in the Toxic Bathroom and was of the opinion that it was simply musty from the old water in the toilet.  So he and YDotNW hauled out stuff this evening while I was getting ready for bed.

At one point, Best Beloved hollered up to me, “We need your cleaning advice!”

I hollered back, without missing a beat, “Vinegar and water!”

He shouted something I else.  I repeated myself.

One more try on his end.  “Baking soda!” I called.  “My answers are pretty much always going to be the same.”

Seems YDotNW wanted something to wipe down the shower with. 

Vinegar and water, indeed.

"My answers are pretty much always going to be the same." Welcome to my world.


This invisible corner has been hanging out for, oh, probably at least two years.  Maybe longer.  Best Beloved likes to go to farm auctions, so he keeps bringing home things like canning jars for me.  He also has a catering business, so various storage containers keep making their way home, where they get piled in front of the door so he can take them back.  Somehow, this rarely happens.

I have a small shelving rack that we put our coffee mugs and various odds and ends on, but I want to repurpose it into a shoe rack.  The diagonal-slanty ones don’t work for me—shoes keep sliding off, and they’re not tall enough for boots except on the top shelf.

Here’s what I started with:

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Yesterday, I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher because I was listening to a good song and I wanted to finish it before I did chores.

This morning?  THIS MORNING, I made the bed (with the dog still in it, who decided to No Longer Be In It, so then I fixed the area he’d been in)! I MADE THE MOTHERFUCKING BED.

I even picked up all the extraneous socks and hand towels and spare phone charger and a pair of high heels and art project that had decided that the ottoman was their living space.  I put the laundry in the hamper, the heels in the closet on the motherfucking shoe rack, the charger in the Pile Of Excess Electronic Beings With Cords, folded the afghan and put it away underneath, and tightened the legs of the ottoman.  (With, um, an allen wrench set that has been living atop the dresser since the last time they needed tightening.)

Then I went and did a quick swipe of the toilet, which had cleaner marinating in it all night!  THEN I decided to pick up just one side of the bathroom counter—the one that has had some art supplies sitting there for the last 15 months.  Then I sprayed it and wiped it down.  And, oh, hell, while I was there, decided to straighten up the other side of the counter.  Then I sprayed and wiped that down.  And I did the mirror again, even though I’d just done it a few days ago, because WHY NOT?

And, since the rag was damp, I swiped the top of the toilet tank and the grubby area behind the seat.  Then the seat, top of the bowl, and the outside of the bowl—just quick-like, no sweat. 

Pitched the rag into the laundry, and noticed that there was still some grubby on the counter and in the sink, so gave that a quick second wipe.  More grubby around the faucet handles and on the stopper, so did a little scrubbing.  Pulled the stopper out and OH MY HELL GROSS.  So I didn’t look, but gave it a little get-the-nasty-off swipe.  Ran downstairs, grabbed the baking soda and vinegar, and bombed the sink drain.

Still had a damp rag, so wiped around the top of the tub, throwing away a Thing What Did Not Belong There (instead of moving it somewhere else!) and putting away bath salts in the cupboard, although it could be argued that they they do belong there.  Grabbed a long-expired coupon off the shelf and ditched that, too, just to show it Who Was Boss.  I refilled the spray bottle with vinegar and water since it had it out Right Then instead of waiting until it was empty, and I emptied the trash!

I stacked the stuff that needed to go back downstairs at the top of the stairs, and mid-post when the dog insisted he needed in NowRightNowPlease, I grabbed it ALL on my way down and put it away.

I did NOT get dishearted by the dust and grubbies under the ottoman, nor did I get involved in a full-on tub and/or toilet cleaning, NOR did I freak about the state of the bathroom floor.  This is PROGRESS, y0.