What Can Really Make Me Happy

I like to do housework.

Not everything.  I hate putting dishes away and I'm not particularly fond of washing floors.

I actually like cleaning toilets, and when I was taking part in a rehab program for people with mental illness a couple of years ago, I always volunteered to clean the bathroom when it came time to divvy up chores.  I also love washing dishes - when I was in grad school and having to do volunteer jobs on campus (the school required students to do some form of volunteer work in school departments), one of the things I did was wash dishes in the kitchen.  Loved it.  Especially using the power washer on particularly yucky pots.

Just don't ask me to put them away.  

When I moved to this complex in 2011, one of the things I loved about the place is that it has 2 laundry rooms.  I spent most of my life carting laundry down 3 flights of stairs to take it to the laundromat, most of those years using a cart to bring the laundry there - I don't drive, you see.  In rain, snow, and cold I toddled along, pushing that cart and cursing under my breath.

And I hated the laundromats usually.  Most of them had filthy floors, not so clean folding tables, and half the time many machines didn't work properly.  You weren't always sure that you wouldn't lose your quarters.  If there was an attendant, he or she was usually crabby.  But they were a necessity since I never seemed to live in places where there was a laundry room.  Until now.

Over the past few weeks, though, I've been accumulating items that I just can't wash in our laundry room.  Blankets, for example.  They're bulky things and our washers aren't that big, nor are the dryers.  So I knew I'd eventually have to head to the local laundromat and I dreaded it.

But Thursday became laundry day and off I went with my cart with two bags stuffed with my own clothes and the blankets.  Stopped at the bank to get 2 rolls of quarters, and got to the laundromat and looked around in amazement.

First, it was clean.

And there were tables and chairs for people to sit down. And two lovely couches.

Even playpens, arcade games and a jukebox playing the latest CDs.

I didn't get to take photos of the washers and dryers but trust me - they were amazing.  Huge, clean, didn't smell mildewy like so many do in public laundromats.

I even loved the attendant.  She very nicely showed me how to use the equipment - quite honestly, it was complicated - these are probably very new to the scene.  Certainly, they were quite efficient.  The attendant also showed me the best way to clean my stuff - the best temperature and such.  She told me it was because the management liked to help people save money.  No sense in wasting money on what you didn't need to use.  And she was right.

And I didn't need to get quarters - they use a cash card system.  But the attendant was glad to take my quarters.

Normally you need to put tons of quarters in a public dryer because it usually isn't hot enough to get the clothes dry quickly.  At this place, my clothes were dry in 20 minutes, even the towels and blankets.

I know, I'm crazy to be rhapsodizing over a laundromat.  But those of you familiar with laundromats will understand.

Trust me - this place is gorgeous.  And I'm even thinking about abandoning our laundry room until winter.

later,

lin

The "Zen" of Cleaning Toilets

I'm not a Zen Buddhist.  I'm not even a Buddhist.  And I hesitate to even use the word "Zen" without having a right to.  But I figured that people would know what I meant by using the phrase.  It was the fashion at one time to write books about the "zen" of doing any sort of task, like motorcycle maintenance, for example.  But my understanding of Zen is that it's about coming face to face with yourself.  But what I really mean by the title of this blog is that I find peace within myself by doing ordinary household chores.

What may be more an accurate description of what I mean about cleaning the toilet is actually the peace one can find in doing menial tasks.  I'm far from the first to talk about this.  Many authors have written about using menial tasks to grow closer to God, to free the mind to consider more lofty things.  Agatha Christie is said to have commented that the best way to grow ideas is to wash the dishes.  I can understand that.

So I started thinking a while ago about this business of cleaning toilets as an exercise in cultivating serenity.  It's a reaction to my years of living a hoarder's lifestyle where one really had a hard time navigating amongst the piles.  And as a result I became less and less able to do housework.  It was a chore!  One easy to neglect.  And neglect I did, growing ever more depressed as things got less and less tidy.  When I moved here 3 years ago I essentially said goodbye to all that, abandoning a good 80% of my possessions to whomever wanted it.  True, I could have donated everything to Goodwill or the Salvation Army--I'm sorry, I couldn't even deal with that chore.  I needed a total purge, and leaving things behind worked for me.

Once in the new space I resolved to keep it tidy and as uncluttered as possible.  And so I started the daily routines of sweeping, dusting, lint rolling the couch and recliner and, yes, cleaning the bathroom.  I have become a quasi-expert in the virtues of one cleaner over another.  I discovered that one didn't need to buy name brand Swiffer cloths, but that the best store brand was made by Dollar Tree.  Yes, really. I've tried a lot of lint rollers to get cat hair off furniture, but right now like one that I get at my local supermarket.  I've experimented with dusters, and have found one at Family Dollar that I really like.  It's harder to find dusters that I like.

I have also found that for cleaning the bathroom I like Spic and Span's Antibacterial Spray.  For one thing it's a pretty interesting shade of green.  I like seeing how much is in the bottle.  I'm using 409 right now and don't like it much.

OK, so all this discussion of cleaning products and such is pretty boring.  I imagine most people find cleaning pretty boring.  It can be.

For me, though, it's become a way for me to center, to calm myself.  (although I can get a little obsessive about it).  The sheer act of moving  the sweeper around in circles and arcs soothes me.  Spraying the cleaner on the sink and toilet satisfies me.  Dusting is less interesting, and I'm not so fond of lint rolling--I just don't want to be wearing cat hair on my rear and my back.

But I have become concerned, for instance, that I get into panic mode if I don't do the cleaning first thing in the morning.  I'm not sure why this started - it seems like I think that if I don't do it

Part of the reason I sweep daily is I do hate the feel of cat litter under my feet.  I am still trying to understand why, after I've cleaned out the litter box and swept up around it, Junior is compelled to use the box and kick still more litter out of the box.

And I fight a war against cat hair.  No sooner do I sweep up cat hair than I find more.  Junior delights in this I'm sure.  I do wish he'd clean up after himself.  But no, he sits on the table or the recliner or the window sill and looks down and wonders what Mom is doing.  Like a dog, he has to follow me.

I suppose doing homely tasks like the toilet cleaning ease my symptoms.  I haven't spoken to any of my friends about this.  They'd probably think I'm nuts, to coin a phrase.  Most people consider cleaning to be an awful chore.  And I'm not saying I enjoy every task--I hate washing my floors, and I'm not fond of putting dishes away--although I love washing them.  Give me a really gunky frying pan and I'm delighted.

Cleaning does help me.  But I am NOT available to clean anybody's house.  Even if you paid me.  And let me know if you want to wash my floors.