I beg your pardon.......

I've spent two days this week with my new cleaning lady -- ok, I will call her cleaning "lady" cause it seems weird to call her my cleaning girl, but she's half my age. A sweetie who is a workhorse, and not afraid of a big, big challenge. My house.

I don't think I ever realized how much room our house had, till everything was put away. Mind you, when I say put away, I mean it, because I may not find some things for months. But hey, it's definitely a HUGE, huge improvement. She even cleaned the garage (with me) and the hubby's workshop (NOT with me). She's my new favorite person.

My house isn't always a pit, but I've been working overtime lately - hence the lack of posts here -- and it's truly gotten out of control. I've always said that I don't want a museum house, and have no fear of that, trust me. However, I don't want one that Niecie Nash wants to visit, either -- or those crazy British/Scottish women who walk around your house with gloves on, swabbing all the surfaces.

I'm sure that we have several new life forms here, but I don't want anyone finding them till I get the trademark paperwork done. I'm trying to figure out what to name it -- Utter Chaositum, perhaps?

But hey, there was nothing in our vows about cleaning. So, after twenty years, I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden. Which brings me to this little pretty. One of the loveliest lovelies I've seen, thus far this summer, offered to you by Venus Wears Vintage, on ebay.

Teach your children well

Well, ds17 found out today that he got accepted to the school of his choice, so he is definitely headed off to college come fall. I'm happy for him -- he's happy. "Psyched," as he puts it. This boy never, ever gets psyched about anything. Matter of fact, I tell him all the time that he's only a step or two away from being autistic, but that's how he rolls.

And hubby today started rehearsals for his newest play, "Cheaper by the Dozen," where he plays the father. Other than not envisioning him as the character, an overly tall, rather portly man with a heart condition, of which he is none, I think he's perfect for the part. Heck, the guy loves efficiency -- insists upon it, in fact -- and my hubby borders on OCD, most days. The dad in the play is a homeschooling dad, so I guess that works too.

But no, we do not have 12 children. Matter of fact, the hubby told me, shortly after I found out we were expecting ds17 that he planned to father five children. "Yep," say he, "gonna father me FIIIIIVE children." (He said this as we were having a leisurely day, sleeping in on a weekday -- I remember it well, because once the kids are born, there ARE no leisurely days sleeping in. "Who are you gonna father those children with, dear," I replied. "My wife," says he. "Oh, haven't met her yet, huh?" I said.

After the third one was born, he realized the insanity of his thoughts, and had the final solution that put an end to any hope of having anything cheaper by the dozen, the baker's dozen, or anything more than a multiple of three.

So yeah, I guess he can't relate to the character, as far as sheer numbers are concerned, but he can relate to the homeschool angle, so he's got a start. The poor girl playing his wife has no idea what's coming though. I may have to call her and teach her a thing or two about how to be a wife in the house of Utter chaos. And trust me, there is nothing efficient about it. But after almost 20 years, I'm still psyched about it.

Or is it psycho? I get the two confused.

And so, in honor of teachers at home and not, here's a very pretty pink plaid cotton Edwardian dress, from Dorothea's Closet, on ebay. It'd probably be scandalous for a teacher to wear something this pretty, back in the day, but hey, Ang will teach you a thing or two about beautiful vintage.