No, I’m not talking church history. I’m talking about taking back my house, one piece at a time.
When I said I had been giving cooking and cleaning a lick-and-a promise, I wasn’t kidding. Dinnertime for the past several weeks has been “every man/woman for themselves.” Grocery store trips were hit-and-run dashes for a few items I knew we needed, and a few frozen fast foods to appease my children and my conscience. (They won’t starve. There is food. It’s unhealthy, calorie- and preservative-laden food. But it is sustenance.)
When the groceries came in the door with me, things got shoved in the right location, generally speaking. Dry foods in the pantry, cold stuff in the fridge or freezer. But calling it “putting away” everything would be a bit of a stretch.
There was never a convenient time to actually empty the fridge and cull out the fuzzy uglies hiding in the very back recesses. The pantry went from shallow walk-in to “open the door and hope nothing falls on you” with zero room to get even my petite little foot inside the door. It was bad.
And if confession is good for the soul, a thorough cleaning after confession is even better. Earlier this week I finally had enough of the clutter and guilt: I drained my second cup of morning coffee for courage, ran a sinkful of hot soapy, bleachy water, grabbed a rag and began clearing the vegetable bins, the lunchmeat and cheese drawer, and then worked my way through the rest of the fridge. I didn’t have as much to throw away as I had feared, and now I know what I have on hand. I continued my cathartic cleansing in the pantry. Again, not as much stale, moldy stuff as I feared, but order has been restored there, too.
The restocking trip to the store was pleasantly brief and inexpensive. I have all the ingredients to actually COOK the items on this week’s menu, so no excuses and no eating out on Sunday.
Restoring some order is definitely restorative. Now to tackle the dustbunnies under the couch. I’m guessing they – like their real-life counterparts – tend to procreate at lightning speed. And then it’ll be out to the garden to bushwhack the jungle and see what can be salvaged.
Happy restoring,
Terry
