Cleaning With Dogs and Santa's Beard

I have a system for cleaning the floors.  If you don’t have a system for cleaning the floors with four dogs, you might be crazy.  (Now I realize at this juncture you could say having four dogs is crazy and I would agree, but now that I have them, I must clean up after them.  Not cleaning up after them makes you the Mayor of Crazytown.  So there.)  I don’t have any carpet in my house. NONE…expect for a small Persian rug at the front door.  I learned years ago that dogs and carpet don’t mix well.  My floor cleaning process is very structured.  I start by sweeping the floors, then I vacuum the floors, then I use a swiffer dusting pad all over the floors, vacuum again and then mop.  The structured process also includes lots of cuss words directed at the dogs and their shedding.  An additional side activity of the floor cleaning structure is the dogs; they do attempt to jack up the process by running through the cleaning area and, of course, continuing to shed. 

I got home from work yesterday to scraps of brown soggy cardboard all over the house.  Tiffany explained that Harpo had located an empty wrapping paper tube.  I wrapped presents earlier.  The tube was apparently widely popular with all the dogs.  Everyone had a turn.  There were even fights.  It was high drama.  The drama maximized the destruction and spread the chewed up scraps everywhere.  My dogs are nothing if not thorough.

This morning I saw a story about a Santa mishap in Florida.  Apparently a mall Santa tried to make an "exciting" appearance to his “North Pole” post by rappelling down a rope.  Well…his beard got stuck in the rope and he dangled there for awhile, working feverishly to detangle the beard.  I found this very funny.  It reminded me of sitting in meetings and listening to stupid ideas that sound really fantastic if you completely remove the logistics of it actually working successfully.  You can almost imagine being the person sitting across the table and watching a coworker yell, “Dude!!!  Santa could make an appearance by rappelling!  Wouldn’t the kids love that shit!!!!!!!”  Same coworker would naturally be off work the day Santa's beard got stuck in the rope.

Dusting and Drinking - Jamaican Dust Cocktail

I seriously hate dusting.  I would rather clean stadium toilets.  Well, not really, but you get the idea.  I know it needs to be done, but I put it off until I start noticing a layer of dust on the furniture and then I screw up and try to draw something in that layer.  After you do that you have no choice, you gotta dust.  It never takes long to get that layer because the dogs and the birds are doing everything possible to create as much dust as possible.  They excel at this task…especially the birds.  The thing about the dusting that is so annoying is usually when I finish the task and sit down, I notice pet hairs and dust particles gliding by my face on their way to land on the surfaces I just dusted.  It is a vicious cycle. 

I use a swiffer duster.  The nice thing about the swiffer duster is it “traps dust and dirt.” The trapping feature enables me to have a cocktail while dusting.  This does bring some solace to an otherwise mundane task.  This is my usual dusting cocktail.  It is important that when dusting and drinking this cocktail you have reggae music playing.  If you have dreadlocks, you can actually dust by “whipping your hair back and forth.”* 

*Disclaimer - It is not wise to dust the ceiling fan in the whipping your hair back and forth manner.  It does not end well.  Trust me.

Jamaican Dust Recipe (www.drinksmixer.com)

Ingredients

1 oz light rum

½ oz Malibu coconut rum

½ oz pineapple juice

Preparation

Mix all three ingredients in a strainer with ice, strain into chilled cocktail glass and serve.

Lysol Clean-Flip Sweeper and Spelunking

I saw this commercial the other night.  I sprang up from the recliner causing two dogs to fly up off my lap.  This naturally inspired all four dogs to start barking and running around in circles.  I don’t spring out of the recliner too often.  They were on point for whatever might be happening.  Floor cleaning is a big part of my world.  It is a never ending cycle of dog hair sweeping, mopping, swiffering, vacuuming, etc.  I have all the best stuff for the floor…in fact, I have all the stuff ever created for floor care.  It takes a lot to get my attention.  I feel like I am an expert in this area.  But seeing this Lysol Clean-Flip Sweeper in action on the commercial was very exciting.  It flips up to clean the baseboards for Christ sake!  Naturally, I got one immediately.  I’m taking it for a test run later today.  I’m very excited.

Last night I had a strange dream about spelunking.  It isn’t like I actually go caving or anything.  Dreams can be so weird.  Anyway, I find myself walking into this large smelly cave.  The walls were really sticky and appeared to be oozing.  Thankfully, I had a flashlight.  I kept noticing all these people walking in and out of the cave, too.  They looked dazed, confused and in a hurry to leave.  They were all carrying snacks.

I also saw bats everywhere.  It made me regret not bringing watermelon.  Have you seen fruit bats eating watermelon at the zoo?  They are actually pretty cute.  These bats weren’t cute.  They looked diseased.  Did I mention it really smelled bad? (Sidebar – often dreams with bad smells are actually the result of one of the dogs having bad gas – end of sidebar)  In the dream, I had to keep going.  I carefully got deeper in the cave and finally found what I was looking for…a vending machine.  It was the cheapest vending machine this side of 1974.  You could get sodas and snacks for 10 cents each.  What a deal!  No wonder so many people were going in the cave.  I ran out with my cheap snacks.  I decided never to go back…cheap snacks are not worth going into a disgusting cave. 

Weird, huh?  I checked out a dream interpretation website and this is what it said about dreaming of spelunking:  “Caves are not fully understood in dreams. They may stand for some deep hidden link. But they tend to be strongly associated with meditation, deep mind exploration, unusual sleep phenoma and dreams. So look for links to premonitions and unusual strange feelings.”  Gee thanks…that was a bunch of words to tell me absolutely nothing.  I think the dream just means I want some cheap cheetos.  I’ve been craving them for awhile.  My dreams tend to have everything to do with food and canine gas.  Ok then...off to flip clean my floors!!!!

Retro Laundry

Today is laundry day, time to get caught up on these dirty clothes.  Have you ever noticed in laundry detergent commercials from the sixties and seventies people were severely accident prone?  It wasn’t like you were going to get a small stain on the front of your shirt…no you’d drop an entire can of blueberry pie filling, just before sliding into home base on your stomach and then cutting your neck open causing blood to seep into the blueberry/dirt stain.  Plus ring around the collar was like the bubonic plague of the 1970s…only without all the death. 

I found three retro commercials to illustrate my point about the serious stain problems of earlier decades.  In the first commercial, I think the gentleman should worry more about that awful hat instead of the stain on his shirt.  This commercial also shows that stains were so large at that time that they actually had their own shadows. In the second commercial, if Tiffany did that while watching a sporting event, I might kill her.  Not even drunk off my ass, have I ever unintentionally thrown a plate of food up in the air?  Its food for God’s sake!  Watching that also makes me glad I have dogs…that would be cleaned up in seconds by the stampede of four always hungry dogs.  The last commercial illustrates the ring around the collar dilemma.  Plus watching a woman’s slip into insanity is just fun to watch.

A New Job and A Duh Moment

I got a job.  I’ll be working as a part-time teacher for Fresh Air Family.  I’m excited about the opportunity.  One of the things I missed most about my old job was working with kids. Now I’ll be back to doing that again.  I start in two weeks.  I absolutely plan to continue this blog about unemployment even though I technically do have a job now.  Teaching and writing are my passions and I feel lucky that I’ll be able to do both.  So I’ll keep writing and I hope you’ll keep reading.

I had a really stupid moment yesterday.  For quite some time, the pictures I took with my phone have been really cloudy looking.  I kept adjusting the brightness, the saturation, the contrast and the sharpness trying to remedy the situation.  I take lots of pictures with my phone.  As I’ve mentioned before, I have a gift for getting good pictures of weird crap or jacked up signs, etc.  Having my phone not operating in tip top form for these random photo opportunities happen was like having a unicycle with a flat tire.  Like being a painter with no brush.  Like being a grocery store with no food.  Like being a cowboy with no saddle. Like being…well you get the idea.  I was becoming melancholy.  The photo hunt was losing its luster for me.  If the photos were cloudy and grainy what was the damn point?  If you can’t put your best foot forward then why walk at all.  I was nearing a breaking point.  Then suddenly it hit me…THE LENSE.  I had never cleaned my camera’s LENSE.  Well I cleaned it and the pictures are suddenly back to being crystal clear.  Oh happy day.  Naturally, I felt like a complete idiot, but the relief of being picture ready at all times completely outweighs the idiot quotient.

Pre-Lense Cleaning Discovery

This delightful hoarding scene was a house in my neighborhood.  The cloudy picture just doesn't do it justice.

Post-Lense Cleaning Discovery

See how much better this is!  Now clearly this picture was taken several days later and the property has been picked nearly clean by other hoarders, but I think the before and after is staggering.

Wonder Woman Cocktail and the Laundry

I found the best way to really get focused before you tackle the laundry is to watch a little bit of Wonder Woman.  I think it honors the spin cycle and nearly makes you feel like a superhero, as well.  This especially works if you dress exactly like Wonder Woman when you do the laundry or when you go to the store to get detergent and softener. I’ve noticed you can get the same effect from watching the Bionic Woman, but this mostly only works when you need to dust and the sound-effects are obviously mandatory.  This particular clip (click here to check it out on You Tube) got me thinking about a few things: 

·         If you are going to blow up a military army base, shouldn’t you actually blow up the base and not the oil drums a hundred yards away?  I mean, yes they are clearly dangerous judging by the FLAMMABLE signs, but still aren’t they a little far away from your actual target?

·         Just because someone is wearing an MP uniform doesn’t mean that they are really MP.  They could be villains in a jeep.

·         Where does Diana Prince’s blue uniform go when she spins and transforms into Wonder Woman?

·         Lyle Waggoner is completely useless in an emergency situation.

·         These villains are really bad shots.  They can’t hit a damn thing - except for a really precise target, like say a bracelet.

·         You can obviously be rendered unconscious by being thrown 12 inches.

·         How many actually control towers were there in the seventies?  In nearly every show everyone always had to get to “the” control tower.  With so many control towers, how would you know if you were at the right control tower to avert the emergency you were trying to avert?

 So much to ponder, but alas the laundry awaits.  I better get to the washer and dryer control tower. *cue music, spinning and transformation explosion*

Wonder Woman Cocktail (from http://www.happy-hour.com)

Ingredients

1 ounce melon liquor

1 ounce peach schnapps

1.5 ounce orange juice

0.5 ounce pineapple juice

1 ounce cranberry juice

Preparation

Carefully layer ingredients, in order over ice.  Serve unstirred and garnish with a cherry.

 

The Charlie Sheen of Cleaning

Nothing makes me surer that I have Adonis DNA and tiger blood then dusting and cleaning bathrooms day at my own Sober Valley Lodge.  I’m honestly tired of pretending I’m not special…like I’m not the bitchin and total rock star from Mars of dust free shelves and table-tops.  When it comes to cleaning on Tuesdays, I have one speed – GO!  I wouldn’t have the cleaning any other way for my goddesses.  I'm Gnarly.  I'm Passionate. The amazing thing is the cleaning is at this level by the power of my mind.  Some people dust normally, but that isn’t for me.  If these fools and trolls who think they can clean saw my bathrooms they’d be apologizing and licking my feet.  Gibberish of fools.  My cleaning is the best, I’m a warlock.  Drug tests don’t lie.  Scoreboards don’t lie. Clean toilets don’t lie.  If everyone would just follow my plan, everyone would win.  I tackle dust and dirt one way and one way only – with violent hatred. DUH!  Don’t be worried, there’s nothing broken here.  I just deliver the goods at every freakin turn of my swiffer and toilet brush, bro.  My cleaning is battle tested with bayonets.  Winning!!

Picture from 

http://www.avclub.com/articles/we-asked-for-charlie-sheen-warlock-pictures-and-yo,52529/

Floor Care Made Easier with Big Wheel Technology

I sat down in the backyard earlier today.  The dogs were playing and I wanted to sit in the grass.  A moment of redneck hippie Zen never hurt anyone. Naturally, I did a thorough poop check of the area before doing so…you only need to learn that lesson once.  I ended up lying down in the grass for maybe an hour. (I don’t really concern myself that much with time anymore.  I’m nearly just like Einstein, only not Jewish, male or a genius…other than that though; we are pretty much the same.) I nearly fell asleep in the grass.  My outdoor almost nap got me thinking.  Mostly about the great weather, but also about how much I missed my Big Wheel.  If you grew up in the Seventies you know exactly what I’m talking about. 

I can never forget the feel of the wind in my hair while racing around the cul-de-sac where I grew up.  The thrill of pedaling as fast as you could, turning quickly, jerking up on the side brake and immediately tipping (or tumping if you live in the South) over and skinning the flesh off your arms and face.  Such fun!  At that time, I had a daschund named Baron Von Maxwell.  He used to stand on the seat of the Big Wheel with his paws on the handlebars, while I pedaled, he navigated.  It is a memory that has stayed with me…which I guess is why it is actually a memory.  I loved that Big Wheel.  I’ll never forget growing up and marking the transition by moving the seat back to the next slot of holes. That is a memory I remember, too.

The thing about the Big Wheel now is I see some serious cleaning potential in its design.  I have hardwood floors.  This involves lots of vacuuming, swiffering and mopping.  What if the Big Wheel had all these features?  A built in Dyson, side-panel swiffering lever and a pull the break spin mopping system.  Think not only of the fun it would bring to everyday floor care, but just imagine the fitness potential of such an apparatus!  I’m certain I am on to something big here and it isn’t just a big front wheel.  So maybe Einstein and I do share that genius thingy ma bob deal after all.  The Big Wheel Wood Floorminator…watch for it.  Cher and Joan Rivers, no doubt, will host the infomercial.

Toilet Bowl Envy

Today was bathroom cleaning day.  I’ve gotten to a point of priding myself on the cleanliness of our toilets.  I feel certain I’d cinch the employee of the quarter award, for my first three months of joblessness, in this chore alone.  That is, of course, if my dog Celie, as CEO of our house, were napping less and focusing more on employee recognition.  I feel certain that as with any boss, this oversight will catch up with her.  But, for now, she lounges about like the Queen of Siam.  But I digress…often times, as I walk by the bathrooms and the sunlight shines just right through the windows, the toilets sparkle like a rare diamond gingerly affixed, by loving hands, in just the right place on a priceless Fabergé egg.  I have to stop, stare and always find myself beaming with pride at the sight of our beautifully clean and glistening commodes.  When this happens it is hard to not let your ego get the best of you.  And, I’ve found, even harder to not have Olan Mills photos taken of the toilets to be displayed in places of prominence in our home, as well as the home’s of beloved relatives.  Naturally, the professionally made photos would be placed in ornate frames that were hand-carved by Buddhist monks from the wood of the majestic sequoia tree.  Oh I could go on and on and on, but let’s just end this with a retro commercial that most adequately portrays how I felt after finishing the bathrooms today.

Just to update you regarding the maybe/maybe not job in Shreveport, we are still waiting for news.  As the days pass, I am becoming less optimistic.  I feel certain that my new maybe/maybe not boss is very creative about finding funds, but in this economy you might be more likely to find a bottle with a genie in it, than some major contributions.  I’ve sent in some other resumes and only time will tell on those, too.  I suppose I could get distressed, but for now I’m feeling pretty good.  I have a partner who loves and supports me and takes the time to compliment the shininess of our toilets.  So even without a job, I think that makes me pretty rich actually.

Suck it Dust Bunnies



Tiffany surprised me yesterday by unexpectedly taking some candid photos of me engaged in my daily chores. 

Well our plan to win the Oklahoma, Tennessee or Georgia lottery (or hell all three) did not pan out this month.  Shaking that bad news off, I decided to once again clean the floors.  Here’s the thing about the floors…it never ends.  Four dogs generate plague numbers of dust bunnies.  This fact constantly sends my OCD into overdrive and leaves me standing in the middle of the living room with my hands stretched to the heavens screaming why why WHY?!?!?!?! Hopefully at this point you are envisioning the prison escape scene from The Shawshank Redemption where Andy Dufresne crawls through the sewage drain and ends up on the outside of the prison…that is what I was going for there.  I vacuum, I sweep, I swiffer and I mop just like Mrs. Doubtfire on crack and still it never ends.  Then, suddenly, it hits me like the scene in Rocky where Apollo Creed punches Rocky in the side of the face in slow motion.  I need to invent something that will end the dust bunny strangle hold that keeps us captive like when on that strange island Dawn gets tied to the poles and offered up as a sacrifice to the giant ape in King Kong.  With my knowledge of science and hatred of dog hair generated dust bunnies, I could change the world.  People would cheer me like they did to that kid in the movie Rudy…I think his name was Rudy.  I have to believe that if I build this they will come like all those dead baseball players in Field of Dreams.  I am all over this plan like chemicals on Karen Silkwood.  I’ll make this happen…but for some reason I think I’d like to take a break from the floors and watch some movies.