Welcome to ‘The Chronicles of a Reluctant Housewife’ where I document my love/hate relationship with my current occupation.
My domestic adventures this week included:
Attempting to pop corn in the microwave. Not microwave popcorn, but corn kernels.
I followed the directions on the bag. ‘Pour kernels into microwaveable container and cover.’ What they failed to mention, probably because everyone should know, is that in choosing your microwaveable container remember that kernels will expand to at least three times their size. Also, by cover they mean lightly place a lid over the container, not snap it shut. Again, they assume the reader will think. So instead of getting a nicely expanding mountain of popcorn, I got a heart attack and jumped three feet when the container exploded because I snapped the lid. Corn kernels everywhere! The microwave will smell like popcorn for another few weeks.
Ironing Pete’s shirts with dying iron.
Our iron is about five years old, give or take a few months. Over the last few months I have developed a very specialized method of ironing. First, you have to fill it with water from the Brita. Otherwise you get black flecks of lime scale all over your clothes. Next, you have to work fast. The steam seals are starting to go. By the time you get to the fourth shirt, your hand is in danger of receiving a burn from the steam. Don’t ask me to explain how that happens. I just know that the last shirt is usually done with a dishtowel wrapped around my hand. Third, you have to stand it upright or it will drip water all over the floor. This week, I got to the second shirt and the iron started peeing all over the board and shirt. This isn’t unusual. I just keep ironing and it usually dries itself. This time it didn’t . This time, the release of fluids was a mark of death. Excellent.
Discussing household small appliances at dinner with friends.
Irons and Dyson vacuums to be exact. If you’ve known me for any length of time, you probably know that I have been lusting after a Dyson since they came out. When I lived in Kentucky, I used to vacuum daily. Partly because of cat hair and partly for stress relief. The sight of a freshly vacuumed floor or carpet is very satisfying. It doesn’t seem reasonable to shell out the cash for a Dyson at the moment , but if we had registered, a Dyson would have been the first thing on the list (and my mom would be enjoying it in her home as we speak). Our friends recently picked out and installed new carpet in their house. They were torn between two. One had to be vacuumed everyday and couldn’t stand up to the power of a Dyson. They went with the other one. I countered with my ironing story. Gifted conversationalists, I know.
Reclaiming my washing line from the spiders.
The first thing I thought about when I saw the sun peaking out of the clouds was my washing line. This is the real sign of spring for me; being able to hang the laundry outside. It makes such a huge difference in my laundry schedule (I can wash and dry a load in one day instead of two) and apartment clutter (clothes draped over heating registers and racks just looks messy). I grabbed a dust rag and headed outside to clear the line of dirt and some impressive spiderwebs. Is there anything better than laundry that smells of the sun?
Improvising the baguette and gruyere portion of French Onion Soup
Basically I made open-faced grilled cheese with reduced fat cheddar. Not really the same thing, but let’s face it, all you really want is the gooey melted cheese. Done.