A Good Day

I know that many of you are sleeping restlessly at night pondering the question, “What does a domestic engineer guy do during the day?”

There are some days when at day’s end I have wondered the same. But yesterday was a good day.

6:30 Coffee.

6:45 Carried on semi-awake conversation with chirpy PJ and shipped her off to work with hug.

7:00 LA Times Crossword.

7:30 Browsed favorite Internet web sites and responded to emails. (I don't want to hear from anyone who did the crossword in fifteen minutes.)

8:30 Breakfast.

9:00 Loaded dishwasher (breakfast plus last night’s dinner dishes).

9:30 Booked a Guy’s Guide to Domestic Engineering advertising campaign, and on-air interview with Indiana hometown radio station.

10:00 Went to post office to mail book to on-air talent who will conduct the interview.

10:30 LA Fitness workout—500 calories burnt.

12:30 Shower.

1:00 Light lunch—leftover Pur-ty Coleslaw with Walnuts (recipe from book).

1:15 Loaded in first laundry load.

1:30 Began paying bills

2:00 Second laundry load, hung up first load.

2:30 Finished bill paying.

3:00 Last laundry load, hung up second load.

3:15 Napped.

3:45 Hung up last load.

4:00 Began drafting this blog.

5:00 Caught up on national news and had a cocktail.

6:00 Fixed dinner.

7:00 Loaded dinner dishes and ran dishwasher.

7:30 Final email check.

8:00 Shut down brain. Don’t need it anyway for network TV programming.

Pretty exciting, huh?

Tomorrow I am thinking of counting the new sprouts on the rose bushes.

Pre-cleaning

Pre-cleaning? Okay, I have some s’plaining to do.

Twice a month, a cleaning service scours our home. I tried talking PJ into once a month service but tie votes end up on her side of the scorecard.

What you ask—domestic engineer guys don’t clean? Fair question. My answer is that I am allergic to vacuum cleaners. Not buying that? Fair enough. My cleaning skills, while good for a guy, come up short on PJ’s grading scale. I agree with Roseanne Barr who said she would vacuum when John Deere made a riding vacuum cleaner.

In my defense, I am a relatively tidy person. I keep the kitchen clean and the house clutter-free, most days. My idea of housecleaning is to sterilize the place four times a year, even if it requires using that sucking device. I consider dust a decoration. Then once it is removed it’s like looking at new furniture.

PJ, while less tidy, can smell mold at fifty paces, and tell if any room has been vacuumed by walking into the house blindfolded. Most blindfolded guys would ask, “What is that strange smell?”

Back to pre-cleaning—we tidy up the house before the cleaning service arrives. This means clothes off the floors (so they can vacuum), and stuff off desktops and countertops (so they can dust). It means that my office floor filing system is temporarily relocated on the bed.

The dishwasher is emptied. Otherwise the cleaners would load the breakfast dishes on top of the cleaned ones.

When our son was still ensconced in our house, we barred the cleaners from his two-room apartment. We feared that they might catch something and we weren’t sure our homeowner’s policy covered cultures transmitted to the hired help.

When PJ retires I’ve talked her into once a month service. She only agreed after I committed to vacuuming once a week. In anticipation I’ve put in a new product request to John Deere for a riding vacuum cleaner, one with a built-in TV monitor.

My dusting strategy is to borrow the leaf blower from the lawn service guys, open the doors and windows and blow the dust out.