For months now I have struggled to maintain my exercise routine and it leaves little energy left for any other chores. I come home from these efforts and space out and then pull myself together to make dinner and clean up and watch TV.

But yesterday, after I did ballet stretches and lifted weights and walked and did my 16 jumps, I started cleaning the master bedroom. There was a layer of cat hair under the bed so I stretched out on the floor and snaked the vacuum under it and got it all after first removing all the stuff we have stored under there, including Jay’s archives of the legendary sci fi Hydra Club from the 50s. How the Hell did it get there? I had a time out for historical angst.

I put the bedding into the washer and put other sheets on from the linen closet. This meant I would have to fold the newly laundered set, including the #$%$ fitted sheet. I made a mess of that but I don’t care I tell you. The set went into a large plastic bag and into the closet and if you don’t tell, I won’t.

It took all afternoon to do the bedroom because I kept interrupting myself with other chores like cleaning the kitchen counters and loading the dishwasher with the constant stream of dishes that appear out of nowhere but that have something to do with Ed and his many small meals.
I got rid of magazines and I dusted the bedroom TV (that we rarely watch) and I pulled the stand away from the wall and dislodged the cable, so now it isn’t hooked up at all. Ed says he can fix it, but hasn’t yet. I decluttered a lot and then Ed couldn’t find his shoes. Try the closet I said. Duh.

Today I did not walk because I was getting a late start and the temp was over 90 and there was an unrelenting sun. That is an invitation to heat stroke. I did my in-house stretches and did the jumps. In the afternoon I decided to trim our ixora hedge. It is in deep trouble having never totally recovered from a blight or fungus. Also some stupid invasive plant –- It’s called an "ice plant" -- has encroached on the space. I pulled a lot of it up -- more to go. The parts of the hedge that were still alive were uneven. I took hand clippers and snipped away at everything that stuck out and tried to totally clip away the dead parts and some of the branches were thick and I had to use both hands to squeeze and sometimes that hurt a lot. I got our welcome mat to kneel on because the hedge is edged with marble stones. Many of those have disappeared over the years and we should dump some more on. Lots of weeds too. I had to stop and get a bandanna to keep the sweat from dripping into my eyes, and I had started without gloves, so I got those and one of the weeds had sharp leaves that cut my hands (not needles like the bougainvilla, though).

I overfilled the large pail and then I just picked up armfuls of the uprooted ice plant and carried them out to the road and Ed said I had left a mess that the lawn-and-leaf crew would not pick up. I said, “They are coming tomorrow. See if they’ll take it. If they don’t, then we’ll bag it and they’ll get it next week,” but I was talking to air. He wouldn’t be swayed and went out and bagged it and was in a snit. You’d think he’d be overjoyed I tackled the hedge. Next time I’ll put it in the driveway of neighbors who have gone north for the summer.

I wore myself out and Ed was a dear and went to the Chinese place and brought food home so I wouldn’t have to cook. And I ate a red chili pepper and it burned my throat, but I am okay now.

Meanwhile, I just hate that the washer and dryer are in the garage and I have to carry the load sideways to get through the door and then retreat to close it. Do you think Ed will go for a swinging door?

xx, Teal