I may have missed the point, but Tiberi's example of her husband letting her daughter get the flu mist instead of the shot felt off to me. The daughter is terrified of needles, yes? I checked on the CDC website, and the effectiveness of the mist vs. the shot varies, but it sounds like it is close to just as good, and we're talking about a teenager, right? The flu is unlikely to put her in danger. I read the article you referenced and could not fault the father in that instance. It doesn't mean her marriage was fair or equal, but making her daughter suffer more at the hands of her father, and then being angry because he would not make that choice, struck me as messed up. Your thoughts? BTW, I also do the laundry in our family. I like how simple it seems. Here in Chile I'm enjoying putting the laundry out to dry on our terrace on a drying rack. Meanwhile, Arthur always does the grocery shopping, even here in Santiago, though his Spanish is nonexistent and mine is, well, better than that. It works for us!
Matt had the same reaction as you did. In his words, if Flu Mist is ok with the pediatrician, surely it ought to be ok with the wife!
I endorse how you and Arthur spilt chores, especially because I have found that grocery shopping is a great way to practice my German. I bet it is the same with Arthur and Spanish.
So much to chew on in this post! Help me be brief, oh Lord.
The meditative nature of redundant tasks... You’ve just described my former career. I spent what seems like a lifetime solving the problems that computers and people cause. Half the time I felt as if I were out on the fringes of human understanding, solving cryptoquips in Akkadian (for example, I diagnosed a printer problem from twenty-miles away... the paper drawer was set to landscape instead of portrait), the other half was essentially data-entry from Asmodeus.
Which did I prefer? I got paid the ‘big bucks’ for the hard thinking, but the mindless stuff was better for my zen. I was able to simulflow over the simple tasks, the other stuff required actual hard work. I dug both, but I liked being able to think about whatever else was on my mind whilst doing the repetitive stuff.
I do the majority of the household chores in my home, and I am a demanding taskmaster. I retired three years back, and my wife still works. Seems fair to me that I take the lead on the homefront.
However... we purchased a new refrigerator. Anna insisted on stainless steel - I demurred, as SS fingerprints very easily. She got her way. Now I nag continually about the fingermarks on the door (and then clean them off). Tenth circle of hell: people who can’t use the handle on a fridge door! Anyway, I do go on about how society says men can’t/won’t do housework. It seems dated to me, but what do I know about ‘average’. I’m me; and not mean, median or mode.
The dishwasher. Oh, how you hit sore points! For the last twenty years I’ve been surrounded by rocket surgeons vis-à-vis loading the dishwasher. Suffice to say, I take exception to the snapshot of your attempt at loading. The glass 9x13 - hand wash. The mixing bowl should be on the bottom. The plastic thing on the bottom should be on top. Arrgh! Common sense died and named me as executor. Thank the maker, our new washer has a 1-hour cycle. I can fire it off and unload it (after cooling) a couple hours later. The less time I have to look at the fiasco inside, the better.
It gets worse. I have a countdown timer that automatically starts if stray objects are left in the open. I can’t help it. After three days I will either nag you, or find a more permanent home for the item (which could include the trash).
Yes. I am an insufferable freak. But in the words of Popeye: 'I am what I am.' I can’t help it that I deeply identified with a zen aphorism I read twenty years back: “If you see a weed, pick it.” It regularly causes me to fall into a recursive cycle of starting a new task, only to pause that task to start a new task and so on, and so on. Until I can finally start to pop items off the top of my personal LIFO stack and (eventually) complete everything and then enjoy the afternoon. Yes, I use algorithmic metaphors for daily tasks. Why do you ask?
Why must people fail me in the most basic ways? Hmm.
Perhaps this is a form of gluttony on my part. I don’t want much, but I want it my way. Calls to mind the Patient’s mother in The Screwtape Letters. I just want my tea and toast, done in a particular way. Is that so hard? I guess we could all do with short commons on occasion. Demand less, accept less, complain less.
In conclusion:
What chore do I despise?
Dusting? Not an issue.
Vacuuming? Not such a chore.
Laundry? Dishes? Bathrooms and toilets? Easy-peasy.
Me. I hate shaving. Yeah. It’s not a household chore. But I hate it. And if I wait too long the whiskers begin to drive me nuts. I should just shave every day and be done with it. But I hate shaving. Divine madness.
Thank you so much for this fantastic comment, Gent!
I am exactly like you: I can't bear to see stray objects around the house and am constantly tidying up, to my family's chagrin. (My dad was the same way. To this day my brother and I joke that when we can't find something it's because our dad stashed it in my bedroom out of sight.) But annoying as this tendency might be to our loved ones, it's also the secret of our success. We notice those tiny little details that everyone else ignores, which is highly useful when you're an editor like me or a computer person like you.
But we will have to agree to disagree about the dishwasher. That 9x13 pyrex dish is going in the dishwasher, dagnabbit! I will NEVER wash it by hand!
I think it was more icing on the cake, or the final straw. I think Mrs Gamart was offended at the very idea that Florence wasn’t obeying her every wish, and while what Christine did didn’t help, the writing was on the wall from the moment Florence went ahead and bought the Old House. (I am having fun squeezing as many cliches as I can into this comment!)
One of the best things about dogs is that when you use a rag to clean off the kitchen counter, you do not have to scrape the odds and sods into your other hand . . . on the floor goes the detritus, and the dogs take over.
Lewis does the laundry, and irons. I mow the lawn, shovel the driveway, and mop the floors. We both do dishwasher and vacuuming. I would say our challenge is bathrooms, we have too many of them to "just clean" on a regular schedule, and it seems we end up waiting for each other to decide they need it.
I love ironing! Definitely influenced by my mother who would iron my father’s underwear (ugh!) I do not do that!!! But I find it relaxing and satisfying to see the perfectly smooth results. I also use it as an excuse to watch trashy tv shows that no one else enjoys! My son and his fiancée (how happy it makes me to write this!) have recently moved in together, they have a complicated color coded chore chart! Now I realize the necessity because my son is a slob! But I hope they come to a more realistic solution eventually as this looks weird! Re the dishwasher, I rearrange how my husband loads and he rearranges my efforts, but eventually the dishes get clean!
I may have missed the point, but Tiberi's example of her husband letting her daughter get the flu mist instead of the shot felt off to me. The daughter is terrified of needles, yes? I checked on the CDC website, and the effectiveness of the mist vs. the shot varies, but it sounds like it is close to just as good, and we're talking about a teenager, right? The flu is unlikely to put her in danger. I read the article you referenced and could not fault the father in that instance. It doesn't mean her marriage was fair or equal, but making her daughter suffer more at the hands of her father, and then being angry because he would not make that choice, struck me as messed up. Your thoughts? BTW, I also do the laundry in our family. I like how simple it seems. Here in Chile I'm enjoying putting the laundry out to dry on our terrace on a drying rack. Meanwhile, Arthur always does the grocery shopping, even here in Santiago, though his Spanish is nonexistent and mine is, well, better than that. It works for us!
Matt had the same reaction as you did. In his words, if Flu Mist is ok with the pediatrician, surely it ought to be ok with the wife!
I endorse how you and Arthur spilt chores, especially because I have found that grocery shopping is a great way to practice my German. I bet it is the same with Arthur and Spanish.
So much to chew on in this post! Help me be brief, oh Lord.
The meditative nature of redundant tasks... You’ve just described my former career. I spent what seems like a lifetime solving the problems that computers and people cause. Half the time I felt as if I were out on the fringes of human understanding, solving cryptoquips in Akkadian (for example, I diagnosed a printer problem from twenty-miles away... the paper drawer was set to landscape instead of portrait), the other half was essentially data-entry from Asmodeus.
Which did I prefer? I got paid the ‘big bucks’ for the hard thinking, but the mindless stuff was better for my zen. I was able to simulflow over the simple tasks, the other stuff required actual hard work. I dug both, but I liked being able to think about whatever else was on my mind whilst doing the repetitive stuff.
I do the majority of the household chores in my home, and I am a demanding taskmaster. I retired three years back, and my wife still works. Seems fair to me that I take the lead on the homefront.
However... we purchased a new refrigerator. Anna insisted on stainless steel - I demurred, as SS fingerprints very easily. She got her way. Now I nag continually about the fingermarks on the door (and then clean them off). Tenth circle of hell: people who can’t use the handle on a fridge door! Anyway, I do go on about how society says men can’t/won’t do housework. It seems dated to me, but what do I know about ‘average’. I’m me; and not mean, median or mode.
The dishwasher. Oh, how you hit sore points! For the last twenty years I’ve been surrounded by rocket surgeons vis-à-vis loading the dishwasher. Suffice to say, I take exception to the snapshot of your attempt at loading. The glass 9x13 - hand wash. The mixing bowl should be on the bottom. The plastic thing on the bottom should be on top. Arrgh! Common sense died and named me as executor. Thank the maker, our new washer has a 1-hour cycle. I can fire it off and unload it (after cooling) a couple hours later. The less time I have to look at the fiasco inside, the better.
It gets worse. I have a countdown timer that automatically starts if stray objects are left in the open. I can’t help it. After three days I will either nag you, or find a more permanent home for the item (which could include the trash).
Yes. I am an insufferable freak. But in the words of Popeye: 'I am what I am.' I can’t help it that I deeply identified with a zen aphorism I read twenty years back: “If you see a weed, pick it.” It regularly causes me to fall into a recursive cycle of starting a new task, only to pause that task to start a new task and so on, and so on. Until I can finally start to pop items off the top of my personal LIFO stack and (eventually) complete everything and then enjoy the afternoon. Yes, I use algorithmic metaphors for daily tasks. Why do you ask?
Why must people fail me in the most basic ways? Hmm.
Perhaps this is a form of gluttony on my part. I don’t want much, but I want it my way. Calls to mind the Patient’s mother in The Screwtape Letters. I just want my tea and toast, done in a particular way. Is that so hard? I guess we could all do with short commons on occasion. Demand less, accept less, complain less.
In conclusion:
What chore do I despise?
Dusting? Not an issue.
Vacuuming? Not such a chore.
Laundry? Dishes? Bathrooms and toilets? Easy-peasy.
Me. I hate shaving. Yeah. It’s not a household chore. But I hate it. And if I wait too long the whiskers begin to drive me nuts. I should just shave every day and be done with it. But I hate shaving. Divine madness.
Peace!
-Gent
Thank you so much for this fantastic comment, Gent!
I am exactly like you: I can't bear to see stray objects around the house and am constantly tidying up, to my family's chagrin. (My dad was the same way. To this day my brother and I joke that when we can't find something it's because our dad stashed it in my bedroom out of sight.) But annoying as this tendency might be to our loved ones, it's also the secret of our success. We notice those tiny little details that everyone else ignores, which is highly useful when you're an editor like me or a computer person like you.
But we will have to agree to disagree about the dishwasher. That 9x13 pyrex dish is going in the dishwasher, dagnabbit! I will NEVER wash it by hand!
I wondered if Christine hadn't rapped Mrs. G's hand, would she have not pursued the takeover?
I think it was more icing on the cake, or the final straw. I think Mrs Gamart was offended at the very idea that Florence wasn’t obeying her every wish, and while what Christine did didn’t help, the writing was on the wall from the moment Florence went ahead and bought the Old House. (I am having fun squeezing as many cliches as I can into this comment!)
One of the best things about dogs is that when you use a rag to clean off the kitchen counter, you do not have to scrape the odds and sods into your other hand . . . on the floor goes the detritus, and the dogs take over.
You get it! Dogs are so useful!
Lewis does the laundry, and irons. I mow the lawn, shovel the driveway, and mop the floors. We both do dishwasher and vacuuming. I would say our challenge is bathrooms, we have too many of them to "just clean" on a regular schedule, and it seems we end up waiting for each other to decide they need it.
This seems like a companionable system!
I love ironing! Definitely influenced by my mother who would iron my father’s underwear (ugh!) I do not do that!!! But I find it relaxing and satisfying to see the perfectly smooth results. I also use it as an excuse to watch trashy tv shows that no one else enjoys! My son and his fiancée (how happy it makes me to write this!) have recently moved in together, they have a complicated color coded chore chart! Now I realize the necessity because my son is a slob! But I hope they come to a more realistic solution eventually as this looks weird! Re the dishwasher, I rearrange how my husband loads and he rearranges my efforts, but eventually the dishes get clean!
I know a few other people who love ironing too. Whereas I don’t even own an iron. (Matt buys no-iron shirts for work.)
It sounds to me like your son and his fiancée are on the right track! You must be so happy!