Our house is an old farmhouse without any carpets so if someone makes a mess it’s easy to clean up. It’s not a working farm now but years ago you can imagine farm workers coming into the large kitchen in their muddy boots and sitting at the table. If I’m in my outdoor boots then those are taken off, similarly steel-capped chainsaw boots as the deep treads can hold quite a bit of mud which then falls off as it dries. I can also get ear-ache if I deposit wood shavings from the chainsaw around the place.
Some people let their house take over their lives. There’s this elderly widow near us, she must be late 80s now, in a large modern house. We have known her for years, she used to child-sit myself and brother when we were small and her whole life is structured around the house. Everyday she will be doing some sort of cleaning and has certain days set aside for specific jobs. She doesn’t drive anymore so occasionally if I’m going out somewhere I will phone her to see if she would like a ride. The other day I needed to go to Melksham to pick up a part so asked if she would like to come along, the town is not very pleasant but the drive there is good. No, she couldn’t go Monday morning as that was dusting day. I was a bit flexible, I didn’t need the part urgently so said what about Tuesday. No, that was laundry day. Wednesday? Window cleaning day. I gave up at that point.
Her house is immaculate, you definitely have to remove your shoes and if you don’t then you will be told to do so. I was there a few weeks ago clearing up a couple of small branches with the chainsaw and was invited in for a cup of tea but was reminded to remove my boots. Unfortunately some saw dust had got caught between the boot and my leggings, depositing a small amount on the hallway carpet. I barely had time to apologise and the Dyson hand-held vacuum was out, really thorough job as well, I thought she might vacuum me up. She calls me Dear which I hate, so I felt less guilty about the sawdust after that.
My ladyfriend’s flat is immaculate but she has cream carpets so I can understand why she hands me the slippers when I appear at the door. All the rooms are neat and tidy, at night she neatly folds her clothes and places them on the chair in her bedroom. With me the clothes end up pretty much where they fall (or occasionally where someone else throws them), although any attempts I make to be tidier are ruined by the dog who takes pleasure out of re-arranging my room. The next dog will be downstairs-only woof.
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