The Housewife Chronicles: Spring Cleaning

I realize most of the civilized world just finished disposing of their Halloween jack-o-lanterns, but it might as well be spring here - the weather is pretty much the same as it was eight months ago. And seeing as how we finally got a tentative move date, I've been on the prowl for things to throw in boxes. As of today, we've got eight mid-size boxes and five small boxes packed full of stuff that I hope we don't need to use until after the move. This includes most of our cold weather garb, so cross your fingers for no surprise cold fronts.

Yesterday, as I was sorting through the small piles of paperwork that somehow made their way to the shelves in our TV stand, I pulled out a bubble wrap envelope from a corner of the TV stand and noticed that there was a cobweb on the corner of the envelope. I immediately dropped it, looked all around inside the stand for any possible cobweb creator, then put the envelope in the designated pile of trash papers. I finished packing the keeper papers inside a medium box containing our Xbox and my jewelry box, and a few other things. I taped off this box and placed it with the other finished boxes. 

Then I spent a few hours in the office packing some small boxes with odds and ends. 

After that, I wanted to go to the dollar store and see if they had any cheap alternatives to bubble wrapping our more fragile pieces. I would also be on the lookout for some scouring pads to tackle the bathroom showers with. On my way out the door, I figured I would pick up and take out all of that TV stand trash sitting on the floor of the living room. I got everything into the bag, then reached for the bubble wrap envelope. That's when I saw the hefty spider hanging onto the corner of the envelope. In the same motion, I simultaneously dropped the envelope and let out a short shriek. I ran through the methods of killing such a large spider. I could squish it with my shoes, but they were ten feet away and I'd have to step over the spider to get to them. I could spray it with Lysol, but that was underneath the sink in the kitchen. I had no hard evidence against the theory that the spider was lightning fast and would run as soon as I looked away. 

The closest thing to me was 409. So that's what I used. 

After spraying half a bottle's worth of the antibacterial, I started a text to H. telling him what to expect when he came home from work. There was no way I was getting rid of that surprise spider myself. In the middle of the text, I received his text saying he was heading home to the apartment. At least, that's what I read after I picked my phone up off the floor - his text made my phone buzz which made me shriek again and drop the phone. I called him, left a shaky voice message detailing my battle, then contemplated my next move. I was still ten feet from my shoes. I gathered up whatever courage I had left, dumped another gallon of cleaner onto the tiny arachnid, and made a terrifying leap towards the front door. Once I had my shoes on, I felt much more protected, and headed out of the apartment with the smallest bit of accomplishment. 

The logical side of my brain tells me that after that first spray of cleaner there's no way that spider could have done anything to me. It's like a paralytic, somehow, and that spider was down for the count. The logical side of my brain tells me I could have picked up the bubble wrap envelope myself and throw it away without H.'s help. The irrational side of my brain screams at me that nothing's dead til its blood 'n guts are squished all over that envelope. That the spider could pretend to be dead, and when I wasn't looking it would take off into some dark corner of the apartment and I'd have to deal with it all over again. The irrational side of my brain tells me that if I picked up that envelope, the spider would recognize me and make a last ditch effort to end me. 

I'm just glad H. is so accommodating when it comes to getting rid of spiders. It might have something to do with all the tears coming out of my eyes as I told him what happened. All I know is that in our new apartment, Heaven help me, I'm never going to have paper pile up in a dark corner ever, ever again. 

The Housewife Chronicles: Vacuuming and Other Silly Things

Oh, the vacuum. The vacuum is like a friend that helps you out without asking for anything in return, all the while accumulating favor points in anticipation of the moment that you least want to clean out the rotating bar of hair and string and other noodle-shaped things. It's at that moment you wonder how in the world you didn't see all that hair on the carpet, and if you're slowly going bald as you walk around your living quarters.

But this isn't the time for pondering.

The other day I sat down on the couch and remnant scents of past dinners wafted up at me. Normally I would welcome the smells of food, but when they're all coming at you at once, you kind of stop breathing. You just don't want all of that in your nose when you're eating your current dinner. So I set out to find something to stop the smell.

The couch that we have is absolutely wonderful. The only thing I don't like about it is taking the cushion covers off and washing them with the laundry. I did that for the first time after the couch was moved out here and smelt like trucks and road and dust. Actually, taking the covers off isn't all that much trouble. Putting them on makes me want to grind my teeth. But anyways.

I came across this lovely gem at the Walmarts.

Glade Carpet & Room Odor Eliminator

I've actually used this product before, or at least seen it used when H. and I stayed at my parents' house. My mom (hi Mom!) figured it would freshen up the room, and that's exactly what it did. You dust a bit of the powder on some carpet, leave it for a minute, then vacuum it up. Smells clean and fresh.

I figured I could use the same methods to freshen up the couch. So I dusted a little on, waited, then vacuumed it up. And now for your Housewife Tidbit: don't do this. The powder left the cushions sticky to the touch even after a second going over with the Dyson. I ended up washing the darn things in the laundry anyways.  Thankfully I was able to get most of it off of the upper cushions, because the fabric is attached to the couch and I can't take it off to wash it. Stick to the carpet with this little gem.

Today, I vacuumed the carpets in the apartment. I got a nice surprise when the residual clean-smelling powder kicked around in the vacuum and practically spread the scent around the room while I cleaned. Specific to the Dyson vacuums, there's a metal pipe running up the backbone of the machine with a hole in the top. This is where the scent was coming out of - I guess it's part of Dyson's fab airflow design or whatnot. Now that I think about it, does this mean that dust is constantly being kicked up out of the vacuum?

At any rate, there is a piece from the Housewife Knowledge Vault. You know, the Vault that mothers pass down to their daughters once they get married. It's an on-off switch in our brains, I'm sure of it.

By the way, I always spell vacuum like vaccuum. Apparently it is not spelled with two c's and two u's. I would say that's my pneumonic device, but I guess I've been spelling that wrong in my head as well.

Mnemonic device: a learning technique that aids memory.
Pneumonic device: any equipment designed for use with or relating to the lungs, like the iron lung.