Elaine Smith Writes

Anything She Wants

Tag Archives: Housework

Spreading the word

to Swiffer WetJet owners.

Maybe you don’t have a Swiffer WetJet and have no intention of ever getting one.  That’s okay.  Talk amongst yourselves.

Those of us who do have them find them very easy to use and quite convenient for quick clean-up.  They are also inordinately expensive in terms of their renewables—i.e., the stuff you have to keep buying.

The expense is bad enough.  But I also get annoyed by a marketing tactic that creates demand by proprietary “technology” rather than quality of the product. It’s bad enough when software doesn’t work with older operating systems, or your music and video collections stop being playable when you buy a new machine, but when we’re talking about cleaning products, it really annoys me.

So, I am very pleased to bring you this Tuesday Tip on how you can refill your Swiffer bottle yourself.  Just one caveat—in finding this tip, I did read of some people who had trouble with it.  It’s possible that Swiffer has changed the design and newer bottles won’t work this way.  However, you’re not out anything if you give it a try.  Nothing to lose.  Oh—and a safety warning.  You’ll be dealing with boiling water.  Be careful.  Use common sense.  Don’t burn yourself or anyone else.

Here’s what you do.

Once the bottle of cleaning solution is empty, get a small saucepan.

Fill it with a couple of inches of water.  Just enough to cover the white cap of the bottle and a little bit of the blue part—when you hold it upside down.

Get the water boiling.  You can turn the burner off now.

Hold the bottle upside down in the hot water.  (I wasn’t sure if it would melt if it touched the bottom of the pan, so I made sure there was enough water to hold it off the bottom.)

The instructions I read said 10 seconds was long enough.  I found it didn’t work until I’d held the bottle in the water for about 3 minutes.

Using a dish towel or something to protect your hand from the hot water, take the bottle out of the water, and twist off the top.  This will take some force, but if you’ve heated it enough, it will not be too hard.  I’m not that strong, and I managed it.

That’s it.  The top will twist on and off now without heating.  If you want to make it easier, you can use nail clippers or wire cutters to cut off the little white teeth around the inside of the cap.

Now you can fill it with a homemade cleaning solution or any commercial solution of your choice.

If your Swiffer is still under warranty, you may not want to do this.  I suppose it would void the warranty.  Once you’re done with the warranty period, however, save yourself some money.

I hear you can also make your own re-usable cleaning pads.  I’m going to try that next.

Inside and Out

Mis-spending my life?

Emily Christensen (I’m sorry—I don’t know who she is) once said that a clean house is the sign of a misspent life.

This may be true.  Certainly, there are more significant things one could be doing than sweeping floors.

But, I’ll tell you this.  I’m sort of enjoying my currently—quite possibly temporarily—orderly house.

I was chatting over the last couple of days with various people who have been looking at the house next door.  It’s recently gone on the market, and a lot of folks seem to be interested in it.  It’s in a prime location, doesn’t need much work, and the price is pretty good.  The realtors all seem to think it’s going to sell quickly.

The would-be purchasers have all had the usual questions.  Do you like the neighborhood?  How long has the house been empty?  Is there anything wrong with it?  And, because we live on the water, what about flooding?

What’s interesting to me is they almost all say very complimentary things about our house.

Mostly, I see the fogged window panes that need replacing and the parts of the lawn that are mostly weeds and the cracks in the driveway and the treehouse that needs drastic renovation.

Their enthusiasm has caused me to take a good look at it again.

And I’ve realized how far we’ve come since we moved into Casa Lagarto.  Yes, there is still a long way to go.  But. . .a new roof, the river rocks in all the flower beds, a front door instead of plywood, a roof on the dock, all the exterior trim painted, a new a/c system, new carpet in three rooms, furniture for the master bedroom, furniture for the guest room, the whole interior painted, a kitchen sink, a bathroom sink, two termite-damaged walls replaced.

That’s a lot.

And. . .there are the results of my hour-a-day cleaning and hour-a-day yard work.

At the moment, however long it lasts, there’s no clutter and no dust.  The driveway and sidewalks are edged, the flower beds weeded.  There are some leaves—because the dang Wizard of Oz trees shed from October to March—but the bulk of them have been raked and mowed and handled.  The ligustrum has been trimmed.  And the pittosporum.

We’re looking pretty good.

Inside and out.

It’s a miracle.

I plan to enjoy it while it lasts.  (Check back with me next week!)

You just never know…

What you may come to.

I spent part of the last two days vacuuming a ceiling.

Let me say that again.

I spent part of the last two days vacuuming a ceiling.

This is not a sentence I thought I would ever write in my life.

Certainly, with any vacuum I’ve ever had up until now, it would have been impossible to write it with any degree of truth.  I have a central vacuum now, however, so there’s a long, LONG hose and many attachments.  Hence, vacuuming a ceiling is a possibility.

In my laundry room—which is “unfinished” to a large extent—it just suddenly seemed like a good idea.  The room has—I guess they call it a dropped ceiling or a suspended ceiling.  So, it has these tiles—which surely need to be replaced as they have not stood up well to some leaks prior to our ownership.  Trouble is, they don’t all need to be replaced—only I can’t find any matching tiles so the whole thing is just one of the million or so items on the To Do list.

In the meantime, I thought I would turn my attention to cleaning the laundry room in my one-hour-a-day plan.  While I was at it, I vacuumed the tiles.  I just stuck the brush attachment on the end of the wand and ran the whole thing over the tiles.

Darned if they don’t look better.  (Not good, mind you.  Just better.)

The whole time I was doing it, however, I was in a state of bemusement because I was vacuuming the ceiling!

And, you know?  I expect I may be vacuuming other ceilings eventually.  It’s an old house with a crow’s foot texture on the ceiling in all the other rooms.  Looks like a dust catcher to me.

On the one hand, I feel nostalgic for the days when I kept the vacuum on the floor.  On the other, well, it amused me quite a bit—and provided a blog post, so, hey!

You really just never know.

 

 

Like magic

 Both of these tips.

If you are a U.S. citizen and you voted already—today or in the last few weeks—thanks!  And congratulations for taking part in the democratic process!

If you haven’t voted yet, what are you sitting around reading blogs for?  Get up, get out, and get to the polls!

First tip for this Tuesday is use it or lose it.

Then, in a quick trip from the sublime to the ridiculous—or, at least, the mundane—the second tip is related to yesterday’s post about my cleaning miracle.

Just thought I’d take a minute to alert you to a handy-dandy product called the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser.  Now, in the interests of full disclosure, I suspect I may own some shares of a mutual fund that may own some shares of Procter & Gamble.  I get bored to death reading fund prospectus,* so I’m not entirely sure.  It’s certainly possible, though.

However, my purpose here is your profit, not mine.

The profit in the Magic Eraser is that it really is like magic.

I’d seen the ads, of course, but I figured it was just another attempt to get me to spend money.  When one of my cousin’s (once removed) suggested it as a way to clean grout, I thought I’d give it a try. 

Well!

It’s kind of amazing.  First of all, it cleans with just water.  No chemicals at all.  How cool is that?  And secondly, it really does clean.  You just moisten it a bit and run it over whatever you’re cleaning, and wowee!.  I’m sure it works better on some surfaces than others, but I can tell you—white grout?  Excellent!  Melamine shelves and cabinet doors?  Perfect!

The only downside that I can see is that the “sponges” don’t last too long.  They have a terrific effect while they do, though.  (I’ve heard they aren’t too good for certain painted and polished surfaces.  As with anything, please use caution.  Test in an inconspicuous spot before going hog wild.)

Anyway, it seems to be a useful product.  Thought you might like to know.

 

* You probably thought the plural of “prospectus” was “prospecti.” Or, possibly, “prospectuses.” Me, too. Turns out we were both wrong. Something to do with the fourth declension (your guess is as good as mine) in Latin. The plural of “prospectus” is “prospectus.” (And they say English is hard to learn.)

 

Miracle in the making

My hour of power.

For a week now, I’ve been implementing a new approach to housework.

One hour a day.

I pick a room, start in one corner, and proceed all the way around it cleaning everything in sight—whether it needs it or not.  For exactly one hour.  When the hour is up, I’m done.

It seems to be working pretty well.  My house is as  clean as it has ever been since we moved into it.  Now, it should be noted that I had done a big housecleaning push before I started this hour a day method.  Company was anticipated, so, you know—extra cleaning.  Honored guest, and all that.

So, my goal is to keep the house in that condition without killing myself.

So far, so good.

I’ve also been doing an hour of yard work a day—for the same reason.

Seven days have passed since I began this experiment.  That’s exactly one-third of the time “they” say it takes to create a new habit.  I don’t know for sure if it’s going to last, or if an hour a day is going to be enough.  (My house is a lot bigger than the apartment I used to live in.)  I might need to devote extra time periodically.  Almost certainly, big projects—like cleaning out closets, etc.—will require extra effort.  For general, ordinary cleaning, however, this is promising.

It’s enough time to make some progress, but not enough time to exhaust me or bore me silly.  (I started out silly, so. . .that’s probably not a fair criterion.)

You might want to try this.  Maybe you can’t spare an hour a day.  You might manage a half hour or fifteen minutes.  There’s definitely something pleasant about hanging out in an environment you know is clean.

It’s kind of a miracle.

Boogie down!

The 27-Fling Boogie

The 27-Fling Boogie is an invention of Marla Cilley over at FlyLady.net.  The FlyLady is full of tips and tricks to get your house in order and keep it that way.  Lots of good information, and much of it has been helpful to me.

One of the most fun and effective things is the 27-Fling Boogie.

As I recall it, once you’ve decided which “zone” of your house is going to get your attention, you–very quickly–identify 27 things to throw away and 27 things to give away.  Put them in bags or boxes or whatever, and get them out of the house.

Right into the garbage can.  Right into the trunk of the car.

The purpose of moving them immediately is to prevent the inevitable second guessing that occurs if you keep the box or bag long enough that you take another look.  If you’re anything like me, you will re-think your decision.  Hey!  I might need that sometime.  If the bag is already in the garbage can and the box is already in the car, ready to go to Goodwill or wherever, they are probably going to stay there.

It seems simple, doesn’t it?  Hardly worth a whole bog post.

The thing is, there is something about the number 27.  Maybe it’s the rhythm of it.  Maybe it’s the magical quality of being a perfect cube (3 cubed).  Maybe it’s that it’s a high enough number that you have to really stretch to find enough items to meet the goal–so you steel yourself to get rid of that sequined purse that you have never used. “27” keeps you at it when you think it’s time to stop for cake.

The “boogie” plays into this, too.  It has a connotation of fast and fun.  As does “fling,” really.  The idea is to get moving.  Don’t stop to think.  Fling!

After a while, in subsequent iterations, you’re not going to find 27 things in a particular zone.  That’s when you expand the boogie to the whole house, I guess.  (Actually, the way it’s described on the FlyLady website now does apply to the whole house.  It may be my faulty memory that makes me think it was originally applied to zones.  I did do quite well culling my bookshelves, though, when I 27-fling boogied through my office.  Whatever works, right?)

And on my next boogie, I’m going to cube it a little further.  27 things to throw away, 27 things to give away, and 27 things for a garage sale.

Boogie down!

 

 

 

Honored Guest

The missing Chinese proverb—and a stroke of luck

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…No!

It wasn’t a galaxy far away.  It was just something lost in the mists of my mind.

I think it was a Chinese proverb.  But it might have been Japanese.  Or something somebody made up.  (Some days the mists are foggier than others.)  I just don’t really remember, and I’m sorry about that…because I like to give credit where it is due.

However, the proverb—whatever its origin—was something to the effect that you should treat your house as if an honored guest were about to visit.

We all know what that means, right?

Impending guests, honored or not, tend to jump start the housework.

Suddenly, we look around, and we see things with new eyes.  Truth be told, they are probably far sharper eyes than any guest is likely to bring.  And, honestly, my most honored guests are the ones I can trust to turn a blind eye to some of my less-than-perfect housekeeping.  Nonetheless, a guest on the horizon is a definite motivator.

I’ve had a stroke of luck recently along those lines.

I was expecting an especially honored guest around the end of May.  Much cleaning and polishing occurred.  (And some actual decorating, because, see, the guest room was not actually ready at the point the invitation was issued and accepted.)  And then my honored guest was unable to come for the anticipated visit.

But my house was clean, and my guest room ready, so I figured I was ahead of the game.  Plus, it wasn’t a straight-out cancellation, but rather a postponement.  So, now, whenever housework weighs heavily—and you know it does, because there is always something more interesting to do—but whenever it weighs heavily, I remember that the honored guest is still pending.

And I gather up my dust cloths and my vacuum attachments and I get to work.  There are still a few months to go before the rescheduled arrival, but I figure it will be easier to keep the house clean on an ongoing basis than to launch a massive recovery effort closer to time.

And you know what?

I like having a clean house.

It’s okay if I turn out to be the honored guest.


View Elaine Smith's profile on LinkedIn