I don’t think of myself as a neat freak though I do feel a visceral attraction to this Mary McGarry Morris quote. “Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be wild and original in your work.”
I’d like to think of myself as wild and original but these days that sounds like it might be tiring. Is it possible to be wild and original in a sitting position – preferably with my feet up? If so I’m on it.
Meanwhile my grandchildren are visiting. My granddaughter has a plus-one girlfriend with her. They’re sharing the larger bedroom in our small urban apartment. The bedroom with the TV large enough to be viewed without super-heroine vision.
My grandson has the smaller bedroom ordinarily referred to as my office. The accompanying photo depicts his manner of clothing storage. From most recently worn on top leading downward from there toward his arrival day outfit.
In service of full disclosure I must admit to establishing the following housekeeping rule. “Please just keep the door closed.” What can I say? I’m an out-of-sight-out-of-mind type of grandma. With the following exception. Bath towels.
I maintained my original pledge to stay out of those rooms during their visits until one particularly humid summer. Point of info. Jonathan and I live in New York City where damp ratchets steadily upward toward dank from June through August.
At the end of the grandkid stay I have in mind we said goodbye with much hugging at the apartment door. After which I was feeling bereft until I ventured into what had been my granddaughter’s room. Different plus-one girlfriend share that time.
The error of my permissive housekeeping approach was obvious as I opened the door and the reek of mildew assaulted me full force. It was apparent I should have practiced towel control. I’d wondered why our supply of bath sheets had depleted over the past few days. Now I knew why.
Sodden toweling decorated the floor – and most disturbingly for me the bed as well – in odoriferous lumps located what seemed to my suddenly disordered psyche like everywhere.
“Accept. Adjust. Adapt.” Three A-words I largely credit with my personal survival in general. In this specific case. Accept that sodden toweling is a given of grandkid visits. Adjust my policy of non-intrusion. Adapt by inspecting their rooms immediately after they leave for whichever sector of Gotham I’ve counseled them to avoid.
Since Adopting – another good A as in advice word – this practice I no longer have to… #1. Fumigate the bedroom carpeting quite as often. #2. Badger Jonathan to flip the mattress quite as often. #3. Convert terminally mold stained bath sheets to cleaning rags quite as often.
We are now entering Day 4 of the current grand-progeny visit. Granddaughter plus plus-one has left for what she promises will be solely a campus visit. They’re both in college search mode. Grandson is in the shower I demanded he take before hand-off to a blessed relative while I prepare for this evening’s family gathering and feast.
Jonathan and I are experiencing increased difficulty with cranking our bodies upright after sleeping on the foldout couch in the living room. Two visit days remain at the end of which we will both be bereft. But right now I believe I may scent eau de mildew in the air.
Alice Orr – http://www.aliceorrbooks.com.
A Wrong Way Home – Book 1 of my Riverton Road Romantic Suspense series – is a FREE eBook at Amazon and other online retailers. All of my books are available at my Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Alice-Orr/e/B000APC22E/. I can’t guarantee that the non-digital versions will be free of mildew.