Monday, October 29, 2012

The Single Girl's Guide To Doing Fewer Chores: Laundry

“So, sassypants, what’d you think of that show?” 

It was a good date night, so my response is, “pretty rad. Intermission was a bit long. I was on the edge of my seat waiting for the second half of the program.” 

“It was great! Good people watching, the wine was drinkable and the storytelling entertaining.”

This back-and-forth dialogue continues, me with myself. As a single girl – and now as a single girl living in a new city where I don't know many people - I often take myself on date nights with me. The conversation after the show, meal or what-have-you is always pleasant, since I’m always right and myself always agrees.

So is the case this evening after my first attendance of Story Story Night in Boise. The conversation continues as I throw in a load of laundry to clean a few things including part of my Halloween costume that I’ll need in 2 days. I should’ve known – chores on a date night are a no-no. Rather then receiving a reprimand for my blunder, what I learn next instead is a fantastic shortcut!

Coaxing Maile to eat her dinner as I put clean dishes in the cabinets (again, chores + date night= no-no) a crash comes from the laundry room and she bolts out of the kitchen. “What in tarnation?!” I ask myself.

Turning on the light, I see my brand new bottle of more expensive than average, eco-friendly laundry detergent has fallen to the floor, the cap is now broken, and viscous goo slithers across the floor. Here is where the lesson comes in: Make your house clean as a whistle without cleaning anything.

1. Break open a bottle of laundry detergent and spill 1/3 to ½ the contents onto the floor and under the washer and the dryer (and onto your shoes, recycle bin, already clean laundry and dirty laundry, too). Now everything, including your stinky recycle bin smells divine! Smell is key to cleanliness, cleanliness is kind of an attractive quality, men like attractive things or so I’ve been told. The conclusion is that you could really have found the secret to dating success: laziness matched with detergent spills. You really could stop here, but…

2. Step in the goo unexpectedly as your brain slowly processes the situation and comes up with a plan of goo-tackling action. Your foot is now clean – sort of gooey clean – or at least you smell clean so now you don't have to take a shower for at least 2, maybe 3, more days. Score!

3. Brain fires off a plan and you decide to wipe up the excess goo. It takes about 5 or 6 dog-bath towels which are now soaked in goo. Now, when you do laundry in the future, just throw in one of the goo soaked (soon to be dried and caked) towels into the laundry with the other dirty clothes. Voila! You don't even have to pour laundry detergent into the washer. Bonus chance to be lazy!

4. Goo on the linoleum floor becomes sticky after a time as it starts to dry and coagulate. It also remains sweet-smelling. Sweet smells combined with sticky goo makes a fantastic bug trap. No more swatting of insects or hanging out traps for you. Bugs are caught in the semi-dried goo all on their own! And since the laundry room is in the back of the house, no one will ever see the bug graveyard!

To summarize, spill laundry detergent goo. Step in it, let it run across the floor and everything in its path, kind of clean it up with towels, leave the remainder goo to dry. The result? Your home always smells of laundry without you having to pick up any bottles of sanitizing spray (less cleaning with smelly supplies), so does your foot (less showering), and you don't have to pick up the container to pour laundry detergent in the machine for weeks (those dang bottles weigh so damn much its like a workout to pick them up). Plus, after a rainstorm, rub the dirty dog with a goo-dried towel – BOOM - clean dog! That’s at least 5 chores avoided.

And there you have it. Go forth and be dirty.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Starting Boise


The past 7 weeks have been fairly chaotic since I decided to leave the job I'd occupied for 5 years and the city I’ve lived in all my life (minus a short, one year pause in Berkeley). Now that the move is over though, my brain seems to be better absorbing this amazing change and each day there is something new that delights me.

Here are my initial discoveries about Boise:
Little, cozy, but not green. What to call it?
1. Be prepared to say hello. Nearly everyone who crosses paths will say hello or, more likely, will say hello and follow it with a lengthier greeting. For example, while walking Maile tonight, we passed a man who called out “hello, good evening, nice night for a walk” from his porch with enough pause in between words for me to respond appropriately. A stranger! Sort of engaging me in conversation! 

Five days in and I already know the names of my neighbors on all sides, their kids’ names, their dogs’ names and know where they are from and what their occupations are.

All this friendliness has been startling to a gal used to the cool, aloof workings of a bigger city. For perspective, after 4+ years in the Little Green House, I semi-regularly chatted with only one of my neighbors and never learned her name (and don't think she knew mine either since she always just called me Baby). Its hard not to feel a bit cynical here when smiled at and greeted kindly. All. The. Time.

People are just nice here. The classic good-to-other-humans nice we all seem to want but don't have time to create in our overly busy, technology distracted world (or maybe its just me). It's the kind of nice you’d expect if you lived in Mayberry, Mayfield, or a Norman Rockwell painting. People know their neighbors and pause at crosswalks to allow pedestrians and bikers to cross without getting pissed about the delay. They say hello from their porches, at the grocery store, while riding by on their bikes, while talking on their phones, when playing a game of horseshoes… Perhaps outside of my pretty neighborhood its different, but even if so, I’m doing my best to put aside my suspicious metropolis mentality to embrace the small town cordiality of this city. And say Hello often. 

2. Kids ride their bikes to school. On their own. I have read a number of depressing articles recently about how kids nowadays don't get to roam free without constant parental supervision. When I was a kid, we freely played in the “woods” near our house, walked to the store to get a 15cent candy treats, or went across the street to play with neighbor kids. Its made me a little sad to think my nephew might not also have freedom to find adventure as he grows up. 

Then I came to Boise.

City of Trees, an ironic nickname to
a girl from the Evergreen State
Kids here ride their bikes to school alone. Or  they walk there with siblings or neighbor kids carrying pink and blue packs on their backs, no parents in tow. Sure, a parent on hand as the crossing guard to help them get to the other side of busier streets, but from what I have observed, they are free to be kids, to roam, draw hopscotch on the sidewalks in chalk, play on the swing two doors down and find their own way.

3. There are squirrels everywhere. Big ones. There are also big trees everywhere. Big, beautiful trees with leaves that are quickly turning yellow and orange and dropping acorns and other edibles to the ground. And the squirrels are going kamikaze crazy about them!! They zoom across the street, in front of the dog, along the fences and across rooftops to fly up branches and tree trunks to their hideouts where they’re stocking up for winter.

So far, Maile is baffled by these robust, chubby “toys” that are so oblivious they don't even care to taunt her. She wants to chase them, but before she takes off on the hunt gets distracted from one when another runs into view.

Squirrels. Everywhere. Up and down oaks, elms, locusts and cottonwoods that line every street in this “City of Trees.”

4. The sky is, in fact, blue every single day (so far). I keep waking up thinking it will be different but the “gray” I see as I rub my sleepy eyes is merely the sky at its softest blue as the sun slowly rises. I do not miss the rain, yet.