Remember me?

Talk about neglected! Over a year since I last posted. I sort of lost the urge to blog here after losing interest in Steve. I came across this blog again today in a link from my Psychobabble blog.
I'm thinking I might resurrect it. I still love my alter-ego as 'The Cleaning Wo-man'.

Good intentions and all that? Watch this space.

The Money Pit

It's been a while.

Since that last post, sold the house, moved into the new one only to find the previous owner's bank had taken possession and we were about to get evicted. Finally, got legal possession ourselves. Between our original offer and the time the house became ours, we discovered the garden had gone to pot, sheds and other landscaping items that should have remained with the house disappeared and additional, unwanted items (think car parts, broken aquariums etc etc) appeared. In addition, with the removal of all the furnishings from the house, the true state of affairs was revealed. Ad. said 'newly renovated'. *hysterical laughter*

So. Currently in a state of frantic stripping up carpet, sanding floors, painting and a million other renovation jobs. Maybe I should rename myself TheDIYwoman?

TheHypocriticalWoman

I've earnt my name over the past week. Anything that can be washed down/scrubbed/polished has been. Every morning I strip off our current bedding and put on 'posh' bedding that no one has ever been allowed to breathe on yet alone use. Scatter a few wellplaced designer pillows...put out a basket of luxurious flannels/towels/spa treatments on the vanities in the bathroom...you get my drift.

Who the hell actually lives like that? Yet it's not just me. Virtually every house I've looked at in the past few weeks has done exactly the same. Some with more finesse than others. After all, a scuffed plastic bowl stuffed full of soaps and shampoos knocked off from various hotels doesn't quite work.

I hate this whole house selling/house buying venture. The whole hypocrisy of the exercise. I go into houses, homes to someone, and nitpick them to bits...'stairs too narrow', 'dark and dingy', 'something died in here....'....yet get woefully upset at the thought that someone might be saying something similar about my home. After all, it's nothing less than perfect. Ha. We all know it's about getting the price down. Mostly.

So far we've had little interest which is depressing. The location is a little bit of a tough sell possibly (near 'village' shops) but, hell, we're not on a motorway or something. In the meantime, I keep falling in love with houses only to get them snapped out from underneath me.

I was going to post a link here (it's on the internet) in case Moneybags McKay fancied a nice weekender downunder but then I realised it would give my address away and, within a week, I'd probably have the entire crew from Steve Martin.com camped out on my front lawn. Maybe not.

And PS. I really hate most real estate agents.

Still here...

Ah, yes, Thoughts from the Janitor's Cupboard. I knew I'd been neglecting something. Truth is, I'm not sure what to do with this blog...to can it or not to can it?

Been so busy. Have really been TheCleaningWoman of late. Getting ready to sell the house and so all those jobs that have been meant to be done in the past five years have suddenly got done in the past five weeks. So now it's probably more appropriate to call me TheWellandTrulyKnackeredWoman. Should have called in my good mate, McKay. She seems truly handy with a paint brush.

In other news, for those other frequent fliers of Steve Martin.com, Spot Spot the Ocelot tied the knot recently and is about 8 weeks away from the arrival of Dot Dot the Baby Ocelot. During her pregnancy, I've managed to lose kilos and sneakily stick them on her backside. Heh heh.

Valentine Cheapskate

Not that I'm cheap or anything......

Happy Valentine's Day, Janitor dear.

Why send a card when you can blog? Muahahahahahhahaa

That sinking feeling.....

There's a million jokes about the Brits and their reluctance to wash. So I'm posting my personal excuse here, right?

2007

A slack rubber chicken is no sight for sore eyes, believe me. That's me though. Here it is, January 2nd 2007, and I haven't even posted a Happy New Year to the handful of readers of this blog. Handful? Who am I kidding? Okay, to McKay, Sookey, El Cameleon.

Three is a crowd so they say. A crowd!

This photo represents New Year Sydney style. In true Bah Humbug style, I have to say I am so over fireworks. Every year, millions of dollars get spent on the NYE spectacular. I just feel it could be money better spent elsewhere, although many would disagree.

The thing that really bugged me this year relates to the celebration as a family affair. There's a nine pm firework showing for the kids and then a later midnight effort. Understandable that they keep the best for midnight but I have to say that the showing for the kiddies this year was rather pathetic. A torturous trip because of road closures, packed like sardines into trains, for a showing that lasted less than 10 minutes and had nothing really special at all. Most families won't stay around until midnight because little ones just can't hold out that long.

Babycleaningwoman was pretty disappointed on the whole. The midnight showing was better and I admit it does look spectacular on television. Maybe I've just had too much of a good thing.

Next year we'll do something different for New Year. Maybe it won't even be in Sydney. Always hoping.

Anyway, Happy New Year everyone. Hope all your dreams come true in 2007.