My days have seem to have run together in a never ending whirl of aprons, casseroles, scrubbing, threats of jello molds and always present shoulder bursitis.
But, since Ive been doing this for a little over a week now– and I can only talk about casseroles so many times before I become a terrible bore– I think I oughta start with a recap.
– My house is cleaner and more presentable than it’s been in ages. I wasn’t exactly a terrible housekeeper before, but the new habits I am developing are keeping things at a much higher standard at all times. I like that if I have unexpected guests drop by (and please dont do that, seriously. A girl needs a bit of warning so that she can put pants on.) that I will not be stressed and uncomfortable about clutter/dust I have been ignoring. Anyway, once I got things to a presentable level, it’s so much easier to spend 5 minutes a day maintaining it, then letting it get bad again and having to do all the scrubbing all over again.
-The routine I have adopted when Johnny Rotten gets home from work is going way better than I thought it would. I never really ignored him when he got home, but quickly freshening up and then going over to greet him with a “Hi, how was your day?” is a whole lot more than than me simply calling out “Hey” from whatever room I happened to be in at the time. He feels appreciated, I feel far more put together and ready to shift gears into him being home, and this whole routine is a win.
-Expanding my horizons into vintagey cleaning products has been great. While there are a few that I’m not wild about, for the most part, they persisted for a reason. My mom pointed out that perhaps vintage cleaning products are meant for vintage materials, like my formica countertop. Smart lady. It seems as though they are.
-I have a whole new appreciation for my modern appliances. A couple of days ago, I decided to make a pot of coffee with my stovetop percolator instead of my coffeemaker, and while the coffee was excellent, it took 25 minutes to make, and that was simply unacceptable to me. When I want coffee, I want it NOW.
I love you, old timey percolator, but I can’t wait my whole life for you. Its not you. It’s me.
My immersion blender, my breadmaker, my super quick electric kettle and my microwave are also now treasured items in my life, and after attempting to make things without their help, I have a whole new understanding of exactly how hard ladies from the midcentury worked and the patience and timing they had to have in order to put even a basic meal together.
-I have learned that gartered stockings are the worst thing ever. They look great and far more classy than pantyhose, but only until they start sagging and bagging and pinching your bum with the little clip thingies with every step you take. You cant look like a classy lady when you are constantly dealing with surprise bum pinches, so we’re going to file that under “N” for “No”, “Nuh uh” and “Never again”.
-Vintage cookbooks are fun and the meals– though scary looking sometimes– are often surprisingly tasty and economical. However, I do not approve of the amount of MSG they call for. Two part question: Can you even still buy that? If so, for the love all thats good and right, WHY?
-I cannot bring myself to make jello molds. Sure, they look all pretty, but then I realize it’s boiled horse toenails and it puts me right off that idea, even if it is lime flavored and full of mini marshmallows and celery.
Does anyone know what wine goes best with horse toenails?
Anyway, The Good Housewife Project has gone smashingly well so far. Yes, smashingly. I’ve learned a lot, developed quite a few new good habits, and I’m having a lot of fun.
It struck me, a few days ago, how indulgent Johnny Rotten was of this idea, even though he clearly did not think it was swell when I first announced that I was going to do this. And, I should point out, that he did not actually have any say in this matter. It wasn’t a matter of “Hey sweetie, what do you think?”, it was more of “For the next three weeks, I am going to make you food with scary names like ‘Party Loaf’ and while you don’t have to like them, you are going to eat them.”
He’s not one to turn down food other people make. I guess years in the military trained him to like just about anything that doesn’t come out of an MRE bag. But, I was honestly surprised how he’s gotten into this whole thing. He’s surprised me with cute new aprons. He’s gone to the thrift store and picked out all the midcentury cookbooks he could find, knowing full well that I’m going to make him eat the recipes inside. He’s been just grand.
But, how do I tell someone who is being just grand that they are, in fact, being grand?
Maybe this’ll help.
It’s a Wittnauer 10k gold filled watch, from the early 1950’s, I believe. It’s a little beaten up, but it runs, um, like a clock, and it’s so, so pretty. I just got it in the mail today (and can I tell you how happy I am that I don’t live in an era without ebay? Egads, the horror of that thought) and I can’t wait to give it to him.
Cross your fingers for me that he likes it!
ninevoltcandy 