Where does the time go?

So I just realized that my first...and last....blog was in February. I have no excuse. I can't even say that I've been busy keeping my house clean. My husband would be the first to say his crap detector was going off because I'm not - shall we say - a slave to housekeeping.

I have a friend who cleans when she gets anxious. Lucky - or unlucky - for her she's anxious A LOT. So her house is spotless! In the car on the way home from our first visit to their house my husband kept saying OVER and OVER again, "That house was clean. I mean, really clean." I have a feeling he may have been daydreaming about trading me in for a newer, cleaner model. But I just keep reminding him that Housewife 2.0 may be cleaner and better looking, but she could never love him and take care of him the way I do! And he must know this because he constantly tells me what a great wife I am even though our ideas on tidiness are on oposite sides of the spectrum.

We have a picture that my Dad gave us of two cleat hitches on a dock. One has a perfectly tied rope on it with the rope perfectly coiled in a perfect circle. The cleat opposite of it on the dock is tied good enough with the excess rope dropped into a tangled pile. The title of this picture is "Different Perspectives". This describes my relationship with my husband. We both have the same goal in mind, but one of us (I wonder who?) goes about it in a slightly more scattered way. How the man puts up with me, I don't know. On the other hand, he's the first to ask me how I put up with his anal retentiveness.

I've got my ways.... One of which is to invite my previously mentioned anxious friend over when she is hyper anxious. All I need to do is leave a closet door strategically open. Once she gets a look at the chaos inside she gets to work organizing! So far she has organized my linen closet, hall closet, and my pantry. My husband was very impressed with "my" tidiness. For about 30 seconds. Then he remembered that my friend had visited that day and knew who was really responsible. Oh well, sometimes it's not how it gets done, but just the fact that it's done.