Patsy Porco

Posts Tagged ‘cleaning’

Waking Up is Hard To Do

In Humor on August 16, 2025 at 9:35 pm

I woke up on the floor of my bedroom. I might have woken up a split second before then, but it’s hard to put the events in any coherent order.

My alarm went off at 11 a.m. It’s Saturday. I had nowhere to go and a book that kept me up reading until the birds started singing.

The alarm makes a horrible racket. The ringing is loud, metallic, and persistent, like a fire alarm in elementary schools. I reached over to my end table next to my bed to turn it off. I was tangled in my sheet and blanket. While fumbling for the off switch, the alarm clock fell off the table and I rolled off the bed onto the floor, still wrapped in my bedclothes.

I landed on my standing fan and cracked the base of the fan and wrenched one of my ribs.

It is said that how you start your day influences how the day plays out. My day was very productive, by my standards. Instead of thinking about doing household chores, I actually did them. My house is vacuumed and dusted, my bathroom is sparkling, and my laundry is caught up. I think I even fed my dog three times instead of twice. He didn’t mind.

I have lately been very dissatisfied with my inability to accomplish daily tasks. I just don’t have the motivation. It’s probably because I’m at loose ends since I lost my job at the end of June. Days don’t have structure anymore.

I had resigned myself to live a disordered life until I was employed again. But today changed all of that. Falling out of bed was like a kick in my backside. It got me moving and accomplishing again. Today, anyway.

I hope I fall out of bed every day.

Deep Freeze

In Humor on August 11, 2025 at 4:12 pm

If I were a houseguest and my host had to go to bed during my visit due to illness, and she forgot to ask me to remove the cans of Diet Pepsi that she put in the freezer so they’d cool quickly, and I discovered that one of the cans had exploded in the freezer, what would I do?

I would wish I were a man.

A lot of men would quickly close the freezer door and pretend to have not seen the mess. Or, they would pull out what they needed, close the freezer door, and pretend to have not seen the mess.

Women, however, would do one of two things: Immediately tell the host of the mess or decide to tackle it by themselves. I would be in the latter group, unless the host was standing right next to me, in which case, we’d clean the freezer together.

Yesterday, I was especially fortunate to have had a considerate male houseguest who went the extra mile. He took the exploded can out of the freezer, as well as the others in there. He put them in the sink. He even picked out chunks of frozen cola, thinking he had found them all. He didn’t, but he tried.

His actions were much appreciated. However, he could have let me know this morning about what had happened, instead of letting me discover the disaster later that day, after he left. But, if he had told me about the mess awaiting me, I wouldn’t have appreciated all he had done, and I would have gotten myself worked up about all of the cleaning that was in store for me, so it was actually self-preservative of him to leave me in the dark for a time. For the time it took him to get out of the house.

It all worked out, though. My freezer was overstuffed and desperately needed a cleaning before the explosion. I finally had a non-negotiable reason to empty it. On the plus side, I finally got rid of that uncooked Tofurky from last Christmas.

Dogging My Steps

In Humor on September 28, 2013 at 5:27 pm

Our Golden Retriever, Rudy, has been following me around for the last hour. He’s always very interested when I do something new. I guess the only way to get rid of him is to put away the vacuum cleaner.

The Next Best Thing

In Humor on July 24, 2013 at 12:31 am

When I was a kid, and eavesdropping on adult conversations, whenever a new invention or product–anything from felt-tip pens to birth control pills–was discussed, an adult never failed to pipe up, “It’s the next best thing to sliced bread.” Then my father or some other man–never a woman–would say, “Build a better mousetrap and the world will come aknocking.” I’m not sure that the word that was used was actually “aknocking,” but that’s how I remember it.

I was thinking about that today as I cleaned my entire bathroom with disinfecting wipes. They are a brilliant invention and make a mockery of other cleaning products. A mockery, I say. I still squirt toilet cleaner into my toilet because I don’t want to stick my hand in there with a wipe, but other than toilet cleaner, I don’t need anything else besides wipes. They’re the next best thing to sliced bread, I suppose.

I’m not really sure about the accuracy of my comparison, however, because by the time I was born, sliced bread was readily available and not much on the minds of people who bought their bread at the Acme. It was always called “the” Acme by everyone I knew except for my grandfather, Popeye, who called it “the Ac-a-me.”

I can appreciate the invention of sliced bread, though. Before then, it must have been a hassle to have to cut up every loaf of bread you ever bought.  It was probably also a messy job, what with crumbs flying everywhere.

The crumbs would explain the worldwide desire for a better mousetrap. Now I understand the rush to invent the best one, and why all of humanity was lined up and ready to come aknocking.

Not-So-Good Housekeeping

In Humor on June 16, 2013 at 2:59 pm

I love when we have guests; it forces me to clean the rooms that they’ll be in. The rest of the house, however, gets neglected. I guess our next party will have to take place in our bedrooms.

There’s More to Life Than a Little Dust and Disorder

In Humor on February 26, 2013 at 9:48 pm

Today, I got a burst of energy and pulled out the vacuum cleaner. “You know,” I said to my husband and son, who were watching TV, “I used to be an amazing housekeeper.”

“And I used to be 150 pounds,” my husband responded without looking up. My son did look up, quickly, to see my reaction. When I laughed, he returned his attention to the show.

“I don’t remember your ever being 150 pounds,” I said.

“That’s my point,” he answered, with a smile.

I tried to figure out what he meant. Did he mean that it had been a long time since I was a good housekeeper, or that he never remembers my being one? Either way, it didn’t look good for me.

But my husband didn’t seem to mind the chaos raging around him, so why should I? I shouldn’t, I decided, as I put away the vacuum and joined them around the flat screen.

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