Vacuum Cleaner Hooray

You would think I was Harriet Nelson I was so happy when I bought a new vacuum cleaner about a month ago.  Perhaps because of their lack of central heating, most homes in New Zealand are covered in wall-to-wall carpet, ugh, and this house is no exception.

You would also think that with the amount of shag and fibers around here, that all vacuum cleaners would be the type with the turbo motor in the rug cleaning head.  But not at this house.  After a few weeks I couldn't deal with trying to vacuum - I felt like I never knew where I had been, and I was mercilessly flailing the thing back and forth across the floor without feeling like I'd accomplished anything.  So I spent a couple hundred dollars and bought a new one.  Nothing fancy, but at least it has a turbo head cleaner.

Turns out that even that was no match for the long shaggy rug in the "rumpus room" where Ari plays.  After trying the  new super duper turbo vacuum cleaner and seeing that there were still crumbs and stuff in it, I sat down one afternoon while Ari was playing and really starting peering down through the rug fibers to the base of the rug.  YUCK!

Years of accumulated crumbs, dust, lint, finger and/or toenail clippings, tiny bits of gravel were all lurking down there, out of reach of even the super vacuum suction.  (I guess for super long shag you can try using something like this thing with fingers, but basically, shag rugs are bad for your health and can't really get cleaned well.  Evan's public health persona doesn't usually bleed over into our home life but he has always been adamant about no long pile rugs.)  The next day I rolled up the rug, wrapped plastic garbage bats around it and put it in the storage closet outside.  So much for renting a furnished house.  Let's see, I've now purchased a vacuum cleaner, a bedside lamp, and yes, now a new rug for the rumpus room.  Here is the fabulous fake animal Ari is now using as a base for his Playmobil and Lego play. As you can see it blends right in with the zebra-striped bean bag chair that was already here.  Now I just have a few more things to sell before we leave . . . .

I am learning that cleaning the house, despite being a good way to avoid doing other things (one reason I used to have to study for exams at the library during law school was that I would find myself cleaning the toilet, or anything, to avoid studying), is not really something I derive a great deal of pleasure from.  Yes, I was thrilled about the new vacuum cleaner.  I do like to see the stainless steel counter shine, I suppose, and it felt great to get the mold spots off of the sliding door curtains here by sponging them with bleach.  But I am too anal to do the cleaning quickly, and I think I'm generally better off paying someone else to clean my house.  This year I have guilt around having no income, so no matter how many times Evan says "just get a cleaning person" I know I won't.  But this time of house-wifery is definitely teaching me that staying home may not be for me if I can't bring myself to pay someone else to clean unless I am earning the money to pay him/her with.  Something to think about.