A gentle insanity

I had had a long day at the computer working my online job.

Afterward, since Older Daughter had made lunch and left the kitchen a mess, as usual, I tackled the dishes.

While my hands were in the dishwater, Don came over and kissed me on the back of the neck. "I'll say it again," he said. "If you ever want me to do the dishes, just say so."

His offer was just the latest in a long, long, long line of offers from family members to take over the dishes. And each and every time, I've refused.

Cleaning the kitchen, it seems, is one of the most hated of domestic chores. Endless women have spilled endless quantities of ink on how unfair it is that they have to do the washing up rather than someone else.

Not me. I will push everyone else out of the kitchen when it comes time to clean up, so I can clean up by myself. Why? Well, two reasons.

One, I realized decades ago that I'm very territorial in the kitchen. I don't like anyone else involved in the cleanup process. And two – heresy to admit it – I like doing dishes. Honestly, I do. I think it's for the same reasons I like weeding. It's mindless, I can take my time and work at a steady pace, it feels good to move around after sitting at the computer for so long, and it gives me satisfaction to tidy a messy area. I feel relaxed after I'm done.

That's why family members are often leery about offering to help clean up. They know I'll refuse.

"Well, it's a gentle insanity," Don hedged with a smile. He, too, thinks I'm a little crazy that I don't mind washing dishes.

"If you want to take over a chore," I suggested, rinsing a plate, "how about the bathroom?"

Because here's the thing: Don cleans our bathroom far better than I do. Under his industry, it comes out positively sparkling.

He agreed to give the bathroom a deep cleaning once a week – Friday was his day of choice. As I finished wiping down the kitchen, I thought with satisfaction that the distribution of chores in the Lewis household is just about perfect right now.

Seriously. Older Daughter does the cooking – something she's good at and enjoys far more than I do – and she can make a mess to her heart's content. (I've given her full permission to trash the place in whatever capacity it takes to creates those incredible meals she makes.) Don has taken over a chore I will only tackle at reluctant and too-distant intervals.

And I get the kitchen cleanup to myself, just as I've always like it. Whatever works.

Morning chores

Ever wonder what kind of homestead chores need to get done in the winter? Here's an illustrated guide.

After my first mug of tea (hey, a woman's gotta have her priorities) I suit up to go feed the beasties. Right now we have one horse, eight bovines, and sixteen chickens.

Eighteen degrees, not bad working weather.

First I release the chickens (sproing!!) and give them fresh water. Here's a hen looking for a spot to lay an egg.

Remember Snap and Crackle? Here's what they look like now. Both are roosters, by the way.

As we use up hay bales, we're burrowing our way into the barn.

The critters are hungry. They get three wheelbarrows full of hay in the morning, two in the afternoon, spread out in the feed boxes.

Here's Ruby, scarfing down.

Jet and her calf Nebuchadnezzar.

Happy beasties.

I feed Matilda and Pearly separately in the barn. Since they're lowest on the totem pole, they wouldn't get enough to eat at the feed boxes if I didn't feed them separately.

By this time I'm sweating. Off comes the coat, scarf, and hat.

Next it's time to clean Matilda's pen. Gotta get that soiled hay up and out.

I use a deep plastic sled/toboggan gizmo to move the manure.

After the soiled hay is pitchforked up, I spread a little bit of clean hay over the area they typically soil. The cows cooperate in this by only soiling one side of the pen. Generally, that is.

Then I sled the manure over to the manure pile and add to it.  Most is below the snow, only the recent stuff is above.

A pile of hay in the pen for Matilda's evening meal, and the chores are done.

Total time, about 45 minutes. Time for another mug of tea.

In the afternoon, Don does the feeding, Older Daughter feeds and waters the chickens, and Younger Daughter fills the water tank. Then we button up the chickens, as well as Matilda and Pearly, and that's all for the night.

Morning Chores

Ah, the simple life. Here's me in my grungy barn clothes doin' the morning milking on Matilda.