Do you ever think of yourself as Benjamin-the-hell-Frankin? Blogging about how you are undertaking this or that particular moral-fiber-increasing regimen complete with checklist and graph to chart your progress? I do. And I don't even have a son to address it to. Wait. That is incorrect. I should say I don't have a son who cares. William Franklin may not have cared for Ben's self-improving schemes either, but my son is only four. And he really doesn't care that I'm going to get back on the Flylady bandwagon-that-isn't-a-bandwagon and fulfill as many of my daily reminders as I can.
But that's what I'm going to do, for those of you who may have the slightest bit of interest. Her web site will initially create utter overwhelm-ment and dizziness in the novice. If you are not looking to lose weight, buy helpful doodads, or clear a scurrying path through your rat-pack house, you have to dig deeply (read, scroll down) for the general motivational house-cleaning stuff. But I've been on her thing for about four years now, so I know how to find it, and what I need to do. Right now, I just need to "hear" a thorough task-mistress tell me to do it. Daily. And she does sell good feather dusters and moms's's calendars. I use both.
Today, I did the following:
washed, dried, folded and put away a load of laundry
drank lots of water
"swished and swiped" (toilets and vanities of three bathrooms)
I have a cold, had a busy day, and that's all I can do housekeeping-wise today, son.
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