When I was child, I wished for a big fancy house to live in – a house with secret passages, multiple levels, and wings. Being from New England, those kinds of house are a reality for many, and I was so envious of anyone who lived in a home like that. My mother’s answer to my complaints was always, “A bigger house means more rooms to clean. No thank you!”
For the past 2 ½ weeks, we have been settling into our new apartment. I will probably regret saying this come winter, but I am actually enjoying having a much smaller living space. My mom was right. Less is best! What used to take me a couple of hours to vacuum, takes about 12 minutes to spot clean. Only one toilet seat to wipe down, one bathtub to scrub, 5 smaller rooms to tidy instead of 11 larger ones, all makes for a better way of life.
However, there is one thing that is the bane of my existence. Dishes. More specifically, dirty dishes. Our dishwasher in the new apartment is faulty, finicky, and inconsistent. By the way, our dishwasher happens to be ME. There is no automatic dishwasher in the apartment, and I am missing the luxurious days gone-by when I could quickly load dirty dishes into a dishwasher, letting it do the work. Then a few hours later I could enjoy dry, clean and even sanitized dishes.
Now, it’s all me. A couple of hours after I have washed dishes does not necessarily mean that they are dry or clean, and I seriously doubt that they are sanitized. And that’s not all. For those of you who don’t know. When you get behind washing dishes, even for one meal, you forfeit counter space, sink space, work space, sometimes oven space, and the general happiness of the family. When a guest walks in unexpectedly, from either door, the kitchen and my pile of dishes are the first thing they see. (Or the laundry, but that’s another story for another day.)
I’m learning. My grandmother never had a dishwasher. My mother didn’t have one for most of her life. They are my heroes. Whenever I start to get down, I picture my grandmother at her sink, washing dishes, and I feel better. I feel somehow connected with her. So I guess, in that way, dishwashing is not all that bad. I’ll let you know after another 2 years of it.
Meanwhile, enjoy the picture gallery of our new home!