In case you live under a rock or haven't been reading my blog for years, I'm going to bring up Flylady.net again.
I'm still ignoring her.
I hear that little angel on my shoulder saying, "Go on back to Flylady; you know you need it."
I brush the little angel off, put her out of my mind, and head out to pull weeds in the garden.
My chief problem with Flylady is the shoes. The minute I'm out of bed, she insists I wear shoes. Not house shoes or flip-flops, but real, tie-up shoes. This is the second thing she wants you to do when you join forces with her. The first is to shine your sink, which is actually a joyous thing. But the shoes? Not so much, not for me.
Unless I have to leave home for some reason, I go all day without shoes. I take my walk in the pasture barefoot, for heaven's sake, unless the temperatures are approaching freezing. Still, I have tried the shoes-first-thing-in-the-morning routine. Over at the other house, it actually seemed to work.
Out here at the trailer house, not so much, because with all this privacy, I like to go outside in my nightgown as soon as the sun is up to look at the growing things in the garden, feed my calf, hear the birds sing, and watch the sun rise. There's almost always a heavy dew here that isn't gone until around noon.
If I wear my tied-up sneakers out in the dew, I'll have wet feet the rest of the day.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Yesterday I mopped and vacuumed up the dog hair, even at the edges and corners of the rooms. If you have a hair-shedding pet in the house, you know that's where most of the hair ends up. I hadn't done edges and corners for a long time, and I said to myself, "Back when I was flying with Flylady, my floors looked this good most of the time.
Then I remembered the part about the shoes.
I could do my outside-in-the-morning thing first and then come in and put on my shoes, pretending I just got out of bed, but it really doesn't work as well as getting that first jump on housecleaning where you put on your shoes, go brush your teeth, and immediately wipe down the sink and stool. The shoes do make a difference to a slob like me who loves to go barefoot.
I wonder if Flylady could just kidnap me and force me to do it for a few weeks until I get in the swing of things?
Or I could take the easy way out and go on being a slob. That's been my usual course.