It’s never occurred to me until now; I’m grateful for being able to clean my own home.
This is not to say I like it. I was not successfully domesticated and I’d rather do almost anything else. Ideally, I’d rather do nothing.
Yesterday I was getting after the built-upon grease and grime on my ceramic stovetop. I had the energy, will, and stamina to finally do a proper job. I realized I was happy to do this. The initial reason is obvious. I’m recovering steadily.I get more done and nap less afterward.
Then I looked further. I turned it over and tickled its tummy and realized I have a home to look after and it doesn’t take that much work.
Also, we rented Soylent Green the other night. Among its other toothsome points the population was so great homeless people slept on stairwells. We have something similar here with homeless people taking shelter wherever they can, especially in the cold weather.
My husband and I have a home to ourselves,and I am happy to look after it.