The New Mop In My Life

I have a terrible confession to make.

I am in love with my new mop.

It's not like it's a different brand then the one I've been using for years. It's the same. I just bought a new handle too, to replace the whole thing. It's the same mop, essentially.

But the excitement I felt as I put it in my Target shopping cart was unbelievable. I couldn't wait to get home and try it out!

Once at home, I put it next to the old one, with its paint flaking off, the mop head on it's last legs, and I thought, goodbye old friend. We've done so much together. This mop handle moved into our new house three years ago, it helped scrub years of dust and neglect off the floors; it disinfected the floor upstairs after one of the kids puked; it has been the final wipe down of the bathroom floor after the toilet overflowed....

That night I wanted to sweep and mop, just because I could. The floors weren't that dirty, they could wait a few days. But, I wanted to tear that plastic off the new mop head and dunk it's moppiness in a bucket of sudsy water.

Fate intervened.

The toilet was clogged. Big time. I won't go into details except to say whoever designed our toilet must have pure evil in his heart. Every time the plunger plunges, water spurts up like a geyser. I'm literally soaking wet with toilet water when I'm through. That's a whole other blog! Back on topic. The floor is soaked, literally waves of water lapping at the walls. I get the old ratty towels that I only have on hand to clean up toilet water and get it all dried up.

Sweet new mop, it is time for you.

It will not be a soft, sweet induction into the mopping of our floors. New mop, it will be a trial by fire. Boiling hot water, disinfecting cleanser, I know, it hurts! Get into the corners, all the way behind the tiolet, track down every last particle of hidden tiolet water!

But, new mop, you did it. I think I love you.

Our Christmas Tree Has A Friend

Our Christmas tree is fantastic this year! Seriously. It has been in our house for almost 4 weeks, it is still sucking up water and has dropped a bare minimum of needles. It's the perfect shape, and we've stuffed every ornament we had on. It's overloaded with colors, shapes and sparkles and the lights glow so warmly...it's my favorite tree we've ever had. Before my husband left for deployment, he bought me this darling snowman tree topper...it totally makes the tree us. No frilly angel or glittering star for us. Give me a snowman in white and reds and I'll be beyond happy.

But the first day it was up I thought this tree must have a spider. There were strings of spider web starts from the tree to the ceiling, to the wall. I knocked them down. Sorry, spider, this tree is perfect without your help. I've periodically run a swiffer through the branches, which is pretty sad when I have to dust my tree, but I've done it.

Today, I've discovered why I'm not keeping up with the problem. Our tree has a GIANT spider friend that has set up base camp in my perfect snowman tree topper! It's winter for crying out loud! I thought spiders went away, or at least stayed where I couldn't' see them. I'm not a baby, I've killed my share of spiders or if I'm feeling brave and generous, set them outside to keep my garden nice. I don't usually have a problem with them. This one is on my list. It crawls up into my snowman when I come by and I can't get it.

I know it will be lurking there when Christmas is over and I have to take all my ornaments off. Not cool, spider, not cool at all.

Since my husband has been gone, there have been very few things that I thought he should be here to help me. I am a capable woman, who has done this before and will do it again. I don't cower from noises in the dark of night or cringe at spilled garbage. I am almost embarrassed to admit this, but this...well I want his help for this!

Buttered Toast Rocks

I keep telling myself that buttered sourdough toast is wicked bad for me. The carbs, the real butter I can't help but slather on....It's so not good for me! I don't need to buy that doughnut or another tall mocha, but I can not resist a hot, crunchy, dripping with butter piece of toast. Now that my husband is off again, gone to soldier, I am trying to be good. I really am! But that sourdough bread calls to me and the butter is sitting there in all it's delicious yellow glory and the next thing you know, I'm putting away the healthy blah oatmeal and pulling the toaster out of the cupboard. I even but the toaster away every day, hoping the extra hassle to get it out will slow me down. Um, so far, not working. And I can say bending down, lifting the toaster up is some kind of exercise. A knee bend squat thing and a weight lifting arm thing. I do notice I only use my right arm to lift the toaster. Tomorrow I'll try to switch to the left. Don't want to be lopsided like that guy from "Lady in the Water."