I finally got the carpets cleaned and they look marginally better. Some stains refuse to budge. We're in the midst of rain and mud season so I can't get too anxious about it.
One of my daily chores is to vacuum or take the sticky roller to the dog hair on the inside of my car. It's a simple task that saves me from a prickly conversation with the husband.
Some people manage to keep their homes and cars in show-quality condition. I'm always envious of those people until they start endorsing rules like no shoes in the house or they have plastic covering all the furniture. I am not comfortable in my socks or bare feet with my skin adhered to the plastic. I want people to feel warm and comfortable in this house. We have very few rules.
Now that we've lost the oldies, my house will never be the same. She could devote several hours to cleaning out the refrigerator and scrubbing the range. This rarely makes my to-do list.
One of my friends makes everyone feel welcome in her home. She has very few rules. But she can't go to bed until everything is pristine.
I would never sleep again.
Showing posts with label dog hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dog hair. Show all posts
Friday, April 4, 2008
Friday, August 31, 2007
Hair Rules
Hair Rules
Women do crazy things with their hair. Some of us color it. Some of us highlight. When I was growing up, the rule was that after the age of 30, you need to cut your hair.
I've seen 30. I've seen 40. My hair is still hitting my shoulders and collar bones. A ponytail and a baseball cap is my favorite style. Preferably a cap with an expression I love or one that reminds me a trip.
Fifteen years or so ago, I thought short hair would be easier and cuter. (Plus, I thought Princess Diana was gorgeous with her short and sporty 'do.) So, I cut it off. All Off! I showed up to meet the husband for a dinner and his first question was, "Where is your hair?" My answer went something like, "Well, I imagine it's in a Hefty bag by now." He was not amused.
No one tells you that with certain hair types, especially wild, frizzy, somewhat curly like mine, short hair is your worst nightmare. You have to style it every day. Otherwise, someone (like my Uncle Harry) will follow you around saying, "Comb your hair!" You have to have a jillion utensils.
Long hair is simple. Blow out the bangs and throw a couple of hot rollers in. Or, put it in a ponytail or twist it up.
When I was in high school and college, we did not have blow dryers or hot rollers. These are two of the greatest inventions in my lifetime. Also, no one put products in their hair. You took a shower; you washed your hair. Life was simple but hair routines were not.
In high school, I used humongous orange juice cans. I made a Pebble's-like ponytail on my head and wrapped my hair around in an attempt to smooth it out. In college, I used the same principle but I found rollers of the same dimension. I had one of those hair dryers that was a bonnet around your head and attached to a control unit. I carried my little hair unit to the lounge to study. If I was sitting near a window and people would come back from the library, they would shout, "Hi Sheri!" I had no vanity. Unfortunately, I still don't.
The mother-in-law goes to the beauty parlor. They wash, trim and curl. Then they tease it into a helmet. She doesn't mess with color. She doesn't believe me but it looks much better when she does it at home and lets it air dry. She achieves that sporty 'do I was going for many years ago.
I have never been good with the hair rules. But I am getting a little frustrated with the dollars flying out for hair care. Maybe I'll let the gray grow in, the highlights fade and the kinkiness flourish.
Probably not. Guess there's a little vanity floating in there after all.
Women do crazy things with their hair. Some of us color it. Some of us highlight. When I was growing up, the rule was that after the age of 30, you need to cut your hair.
I've seen 30. I've seen 40. My hair is still hitting my shoulders and collar bones. A ponytail and a baseball cap is my favorite style. Preferably a cap with an expression I love or one that reminds me a trip.
Fifteen years or so ago, I thought short hair would be easier and cuter. (Plus, I thought Princess Diana was gorgeous with her short and sporty 'do.) So, I cut it off. All Off! I showed up to meet the husband for a dinner and his first question was, "Where is your hair?" My answer went something like, "Well, I imagine it's in a Hefty bag by now." He was not amused.
No one tells you that with certain hair types, especially wild, frizzy, somewhat curly like mine, short hair is your worst nightmare. You have to style it every day. Otherwise, someone (like my Uncle Harry) will follow you around saying, "Comb your hair!" You have to have a jillion utensils.
Long hair is simple. Blow out the bangs and throw a couple of hot rollers in. Or, put it in a ponytail or twist it up.
When I was in high school and college, we did not have blow dryers or hot rollers. These are two of the greatest inventions in my lifetime. Also, no one put products in their hair. You took a shower; you washed your hair. Life was simple but hair routines were not.
In high school, I used humongous orange juice cans. I made a Pebble's-like ponytail on my head and wrapped my hair around in an attempt to smooth it out. In college, I used the same principle but I found rollers of the same dimension. I had one of those hair dryers that was a bonnet around your head and attached to a control unit. I carried my little hair unit to the lounge to study. If I was sitting near a window and people would come back from the library, they would shout, "Hi Sheri!" I had no vanity. Unfortunately, I still don't.
The mother-in-law goes to the beauty parlor. They wash, trim and curl. Then they tease it into a helmet. She doesn't mess with color. She doesn't believe me but it looks much better when she does it at home and lets it air dry. She achieves that sporty 'do I was going for many years ago.
I have never been good with the hair rules. But I am getting a little frustrated with the dollars flying out for hair care. Maybe I'll let the gray grow in, the highlights fade and the kinkiness flourish.
Probably not. Guess there's a little vanity floating in there after all.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Trading Cars
At my request, the husband and I traded cars today. Even though it was my idea, it makes me nervous. I ride with him a lot and I think he is an agressive driver. Also, he will not let me take him through the tutorial so he'll just be pushing buttons and I will have to reset everything.
I don't even particularly like my car. It's way too complicated. Still, some only child gene rears its ugly head and it's MINE! Be careful with it.
The oldies don't have this issue. He's legally blind and she is the only driver. The blindness must come and go because he's always playing navigator.
The only qualm Big Daddy has about me driving his car is dog hair. He didn't want the dog in the passenger seat. I couldn't make this promise so I had to swear to have it vacuumed. I don't know what the big deal is. His car is a mess and I am usually the only one to sit in the passenger seat.
So, he took my car. The one with all the dog hair in it.
I don't even particularly like my car. It's way too complicated. Still, some only child gene rears its ugly head and it's MINE! Be careful with it.
The oldies don't have this issue. He's legally blind and she is the only driver. The blindness must come and go because he's always playing navigator.
The only qualm Big Daddy has about me driving his car is dog hair. He didn't want the dog in the passenger seat. I couldn't make this promise so I had to swear to have it vacuumed. I don't know what the big deal is. His car is a mess and I am usually the only one to sit in the passenger seat.
So, he took my car. The one with all the dog hair in it.
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