Cats and Cleaners

[smokingboot]

The leaves are falling, and we've no Ralik-cat to share them with us. Not that he would necessarily - he'd more likely just stare and go to sleep. But we have tall trees around the house and when the leaves fall, the back looks so pretty. I hope wherever he is, he's OK. Did a meditation to Bast asking her to protect him, and I saw her in my mind's eye smiling, scritching his head just the way he likes it with him standing up on his hind legs making his teddy bear face. I feel she's looking after him, and I seriously don't mind others thinking I'm deluded. I love our little demonlord and always will, whether he's coming back or gone for good.

If he ever comes back he will find a couple of things have changed. Surya was acting a little clingy, and what with me doing dayshows and Russ at work, we worried that she was lonely. So we got two eight week old kittens.



The smallest is a fairy cat, white with odd eyes, one clear blue and one ambergreenishwhatever...she's the runt of the litter and she squeaks with piercing indignation whenever she doesn't get her way. We've called her Freya. Her sister is black, fearless and feisty and we've called her Durga. Both are affectionate and both are currently facing the less than friendly advances of the cat we got them to please. Surya hisses at them with menace, and makes long low growls of the F*ck-Off-This-Is-My-Patch variety. Freya makes herself as big as she can and hides if she must, Durga gets ready to rumble...so far the stairs are the main battleground. Surya sits at the top, her glower unmistakeable to all except Durga who clearly thinks that either a) it's a game or b)she can easily take on this much-bigger-armed-with-no-sense-of-humour-type-cat. larians and I stand by, ready to ensure no tragedies ensue, armed with ham bribes and tea-towels.



Other changes include the addition of a cleaner to our household routine. This is really odd to me.

I have no qualms whatsoever about paying someone to clean, I don't feel guilty about service, anymore than I have qualms about paying for someone to cook me meals or change the wheels on the car. Work deserves respect, and better it be if that respect takes the form of wads of notes, all well and good. But...

I don't like it. I hate cleaning, so when larians and I started shifting boxes around so that she could get to things, I could feel my disgruntlement rising. Things needed to be moved so she could get around the place, larians told me. It felt like the universe trying to guilt trip me into being tidy, cos she's a cleaner not a tidyer. What?
Just lift the offending object, wipe underneath it, and put it back, how hard can it be? I recall reading an article by a French lady talking about how Brits spoil their cleaners/servants etc, and I was beginning to wonder. I have better things to do than make things presentable for my cleaner, says I, feeling guilty as she moves dustbin liners full of rubbish down the corridor to the front door. I should get up and help. No I shouldn't. But I feel awkward. There's hours of this to go yet.

I feel uncomfortable. Yes, I appreciate the job she's doing but I don't have the house to myself and I can't just be.

It's not just that I hate doing housework myself, I actually don't like being in the vicinity while it's happening. Like a true brat, I want the housework done when I am not there, preferably by household pixies. Or else eventually I'll do some, probably quite badly, when I feel like it. In my parents' spotless house, Mum never got how I didn't take to housework. When I was very young, she used to say my inability was unnatural. I couldn't help hating it, couldn't help my total indifference to whether the taps shone or not, never took pride in one single moment of it. 'Ah, but you couldn't live in the mess you make,' she would say sagely. Years of living alone proved her wondrously wrong. I just didn't care and I still don't. I appreciate those who do as long as they don't try to share their work ethic with me.

Now I sit here, uneasy because I can't relax. Like I said, she's a nice lady and I appreciate how badly our house needs this. But I still want it over and her gone.

I just looked at the kitchen. She's made it shine like a diamond.

Comments

[november-girl.livejournal.com]

The reason I'd never want a cleaner is because I have a tendency to lose stuff - I would then always be worried that she'd stolen it and would get paranoid. Given that I did the job for years and never stole anything you'd think I'd be a bit more chilled than that, wouldn't you?