Things I’ve come to realise since my cleaning lady went on a seven-week vacation

1.     That my life has changed irrevocably, the meaning of ‘line up’ now quantifying the fact that the dishwasher will indeed not empty itself.

2.     That there might just be something to being a bottle collector; I could most certainly supplement my income with the amount of empties that I’ve just had to deposit for those less fortunate - either that or I could learn a new musical skill.

3.     That my fridge might just be a portal to new worlds with intelligent life forms.

4.     That it’s not just politicians with dirty little secrets hidden within their cabinets.

5.     That unlike the dishwasher, my oven will clean itself even if its skill does seem to be restricted; missing the nooks and crannies of the hotplates as it does, but no matter how much I try to encourage it, the microwave just can’t match those obliterating kind of temperatures; what just might be inspiration for a wanna be Picasso evident on all three sides, top and bottom.

6.     Where the expression ‘breeding like rabbits’ was begat from when I looked under the furniture.

7.     That ‘Lysol Ultimate Bathroom Cleaner’ might ultimately rein from the bathroom throne; providing shining hope for the murky minions there, ‘tapping’ into its skills even in the kitchen, but for whatever reason it has a grudge against my beautiful wooden dining table; wiping it clean, sure, but beating it into a dull submission ‘to just think about that!’

8.     That it is not minor earthquakes in the region, after all, that make the pictures on my wall askew from time to time, for there have been a couple of shakes recently and still they’re as straight as the last time I adjusted them just after my cleaner left two weeks ago.

9.     That windows of opportunity ‘clothes’ themselves when doors doubling as laundry baskets no longer will.

10. That despite Nancy Sinatra’s claim; shoes do not take on a life of their own.

11. That, in contrast to number ten, toys really do come alive when no one’s around – either that or someone’s running a doggy day care here when I’m out.

12. That judging by the water’s absolute refusal to drain in the shower, it might just be time for a haircut.

13. That the outdoors has, under false pretences, taken credit far too long for the fresh aroma of nature that I always thought was particularly skilled in permeating, even in winter, the smallest cracks of my doors and windows.

14. That contrary to what their name suggests about their disposition, baseboards really don’t skirt any issues at all.

15. That the dog doesn’t mind taking a bath now, not after the last time I rinsed him down in there; the tub doing a highly impressive impression of the dank mucky puddle up the park.

16. That there’s no treasure in that old trunk in my study as I always fancied there might be.  No, now I have to put that retirement plan to bed! (See what I did there?)

17. That silver might just be an impostor; in fact it’s a cotton lining to be discovered behind every soft downy cloud.

18. That my bathroom windowsill might have a point; spreading gossip that I’m metrosexual as has been its tendency of late; perhaps its time to go back in the closet?

19. That if you don’t pick up the party favour from your Godson’s christening - a love heart shaped picture frame attached to a nicely tied blue ribbon containing iced chocolate almonds - that fell on the floor when you were cleaning the dresser, that the dog will accuse you of having held out on him all this time.  Yes...  a false labour saving method is the art of procrastination when one considers the mark on the carpet that the ingestion of his very first taste of sugar will undoubtedly deposit later.

20. That the canine species might just be more intuitive than we think, vacuums really are obnoxious sucky bastards.

21. But the biggest thing I’ve learned since my cleaning lady abandoned me?  That what highly manipulative parents say is true; anything can be turned into a game; stopping in-between chores to write these little notes and rather enjoying it, the place sparkling now to the point where I might have missed my vocation – but I rather suspect that’ll be a one time deal only - but at least I got to write as well.
  
22. That I might not be paying her enough - but... then again... anyone who can take a frikkin' seven week unpaid vacation, might just be doing better than me!

I think I’m good for two weeks now, only five to wade my way through.

Sink or Swim?

Now, as a new blogger, something I find I’m enjoying greatly, it has me wondering though, if it’s just me; am I really that crap at interacting, even online, with people?  Do they just not like me?

I’m not great at ingratiating myself into certain situations even with the relative anonymity of the Internet, and so it’s definitely a push for me to initiate any kind of relationship with strangers, always kinda on the outside looking in.  But I’m trying.

I see that most bloggers here have hundreds of followers, or a great deal at least, and I know I have to put myself out there to be like them, establish myself within groups, strike up a rapport, contribute, take myself out of my comfort zone, conform even.  And having been a member of a writing site for the last three years or so, I thought I’d learned a great deal about exercising my digital voice; contributing to online forums where body language can’t have a say, online communication very different from the intimacy of that face to face, conversing without the kind of animation I’m so good at that I could actually be Italian.  I thought I’d learned, at the very least, how to be subtle though; my straightforward, but nonetheless intended to be helpful comments often misinterpreted in the past; viewed as controversial even, because they hadn’t followed suit of the ego stroking niceties that were very often unmerited and in place of offering some helpful advice that might actually help a new writer grow.

Perhaps I take things too personally, but that’s who I am, I analyse everything, feel deeply, and so I can’t help but wonder why a complimentary comment I left on someone’s competition entry here should have been deleted.  It was a nice enough piece, sure, but I could have pointed out a passive voice, a lack of exposition and some other nitpicky stuff, but I didn’t; this isn’t my writing site after all, and I don’t know yet that this kind of advice is wanted, or even appropriate here even among writers – the standard of which I find pleasantly high so far - but mainly because I’ve learned that an honest to goodness kind of critique isn’t always received well, so I've learned to hold back.  Since leaving mine, five other comments such as ‘love it, go vote for me’, have been posted on that blog, I know, because I subscribed to the follow up emails, yet mine is soaring through cyberspace with no place to go.  So yes, it leaves me thinking that I can’t do right for doing wrong.

It bothers me, perhaps irrationally, but as I said, I imagine all sorts of reasons as to why this might have been.  It could be innocent enough or it could be that my British way of saying things meant that my comment was viewed differently from an American perspective, as can happen, although I can’t really see why in this case it would’ve; friendly as my message was. But the one thing we did on my writing site was to reciprocate; I wonder if the same unspoken rule applies here? 


On the other hand, there are those who have come to my entry by their own volition, and that is always a pleasure. Indeed I've 'met' some really nice people here, which is what I'll concentrate on instead of dwelling on the feeling of rejection that this one incident wants to instil within me - even though I know it could simply be down to a malfunction somewhere - perhaps residue from years of over-reaction from those on my writing site.

No, I won’t allow this deleted (misplaced?) comment to put me off my ‘up until that point, enthusiasm' for trying to join in, but nonetheless, perhaps now I know why I have only read nice reviews on blogs here as opposed to the mixed bag you get on writing sites; it’s easy to delete those that you don’t want - that can be a good thing though and I often wished for that function on the writing site. 

So, just so you know I welcome hearing from complete and utter strangers as surely a blog site is intended to accommodate, and hopefully this is just a one off innocent situation, no more needless obsessing. I look forward to those who want to interact with an otherwise lone wolf like me... talking of which, here's a little ditty I wrote (although I don't profess to like... wax all poetical or owt.)


Lone Wolf

What fate it is to succumb to a life alone in all things

Not sharing beauty of mind, your perception of the world
To suffer on the outside, the sense of not being welcome in

Click image to read samples of humorous poetry by S P Mount

To deny another of yourself in body and brain and all

A choice, no doubt, but from where is it made, and why
When the rest of the world is content to be in somebody's company
Is this designed to punish, or is it a form of enlightenment, are you being mocked
For not tagging along a trodden path of what is considered normalcy

How can humankind be so unique and individual yet so very different with distinctive fingerprints when given the droves in which it exists
Why does it punish goodwill, castigate learned people for what they know
For a gift of awareness so independently beautiful should be chastised, is a sin

Ignorance ostracises most things unfamiliar and not recognised, as intimidation
No welcome mat for inexplicable threats for fear of inferiority complexes stepping in
No salutation for a lone wolf… or is the welcome staved away with bared teeth
Is it better to be one, or alone in a pack, or both, what fate, strange one, is your doom