The summer is winding down; just a little bit of time left to get in some R&R. Here in New York City we’ve had a hot summer with lots of rain – like most of the Northeast. The city gets particularly hot because of all the heat it generates itself: the cars, buses, trucks, subways, skyscrapers, etc.

The really hot and humid days discourage much outdoor activity, like running all over town, walking around neighborhoods. Consequently, I feel I have spent more time indoors this summer than I ever have. It seems that the more time I spend at home, the more I notice what needs cleaning, dusting, fixing, etc. This is often a discouraging exercise. We want a clean and tidy house, but we are all so pressed for time, so overworked. When we finally have some free time, mostly we don’t want to spend it cleaning. At least I don’t. But then when I put it off for another week, I have a slight feeling of self-defeat. I know, the longer I let it go, the more work it’s going to take to pull the house back together when I finally get around to it. Oh well.

There was an interesting article on the front page of The New York Times some years ago, about how Americans are spending significantly less time cleaning their homes. I think the average had plummeted to less than half the time people used to spend cleaning in the 1960’s. Of course, women are in the workplace in numbers that no one could imagine 30-40 years ago, and women have done most of the housework. A lot of men help with chores too, as well as children; but men are overloaded with work as well, and children, aside from school, are involved with numerous extracurricular activities.

I have a like/hate relationship with my housekeeping. Generally I dislike the chore because it is hot, messy, and hurts my back and knees. But I also have a great fondness for it, because there is something about housework that makes you "intimate" with your home in an odd way. You must touch and caress it, rub the furniture with oils, sense the outline of the moldings with your hand, dust the knick knacks, souvenirs, and memorabilia of the ones you love. You learn your home’s quirks, it’s beautiful flaws; you know where this little nick in the floor is, which picture always hangs crooked, which piece of furniture the pet toys end up under. You come to know every little detail of your abode, like you know each little detail of the faces and bodies of the people most important to you: your husband, your wife, your children, your mother and father, your sisters and brothers, your good friends. That’s the nice part of the work.

Even so, you don’t want to clean as often as probably the house needs to be cleaned, hence the stress and guilt. I have tried a million and one routines to make my housekeeping faster, easier, less frequent, etc., but I haven’t really come up with anything great. Now that I run my own business, and am far busier than I ever was in the past, chores certainly get put off until the situation reaches critical mass around here. I don’t really have any sort of system anymore. The house gets cleaned if I know people are coming over, the grocery shopping gets done when we’re down to our last half of a container of milk and last roll of toilet paper. The laundry, out of sheer necessity, gets done regularly.

Sometimes I’ll do one small chore every couple of days or so, and I try to pick one I don’t really dislike to sort of get myself in the cleaning groove. One pleasant chore is washing my Persian cat, Dutch. He’s mostly white with reddish ears, paws and tail, but he’s like Pigpen – always dirty, always rolling around in soot. So, I must wash him every couple of months. He doesn’t mind at all, probably because since he was a little kitten he’s been washed and handled. I wash him in the kitchen sink, first putting out his special cat shampoo and conditioner (!), laying out the towel, his brushes, the hairdryer (which is his favorite part of the whole event), and then we have our beautiful special time together. I talk to him while I wash him, I sing him a song, I give him kisses of encouragement. Rubbing the shampoo into his sturdy little body, holding him steady, feeling his heart beating, rinsing him off, toweling him dry, and then brushing and blow-drying his fur – these are all acts that bring my soul and his closer each time I do it. It has a level of intimacy too that I treasure. But I still wish he wouldn’t get so grimy and shed quite so much!

Anyway, I thought I’d share my thoughts on the jobs we must all do – if anyone has some nifty approaches to housework and all, please share them with us (I know, I know, the first suggestion I’ll hear is stop griping and get a housekeeper). In the meanwhile, I’d like to give you a recipe for a simple yet wonderful homemade potpourri that comes from a wonderful wonderful novel by Maryilynne Robinson called, of all things, Housekeeping. Housekeeping was also made into a movie of the same title with Christine Lahti, and directed by the marvelous Scottish director Bill Forsyth. This is a must see; you’ll love it. It’s on video. Hey! I just justified three ways to put off housework: make potpourri, read Maryilynne Robinson’s book, and watch the movie version of Housekeeping.

It’s a totally simple recipe, using only the natural scents of the herbs (no strong oil smells), and it’s a total winner with people. It makes a nice "hostess" gift, or any kind of small present. I would suggest getting the herbs from a good herb mail order house or store – like Penzey’s in Wisconsin – where the herbs are of a higher quality and freshness.

Basically the recipe is this:

Bay leaves
Thyme
Whole Cloves
Cinnamon sticks or chips

There are not measurements in the book, so I just eyeball it and sniff it to see if I have the right mix. I also add dried rose petals if I happen to have some drying in my kitchen from a bouquet. This adds a little color and scent as well. The mixture has a wonderful familiar yet exotic subtle smell. It conjures up images of frankincense and myrrh brought by the three magi.

Play around with the recipe, add to it, whatever. This potpourri keeps its scent for years. I have some in my living room that I must have made 4 years ago and it still smells lovely. Also, if you’re lucky enough to have a flower garden, I would encourage you, if you don’t already, to dry the flowers you have grown at the end of the season. You could always add those in if you feel inclined.

Have fun, and while you’re in potpourri up to your elbows, you can think about the book Housekeeping, the movie Housekeeping, and the housekeeping you’re not doing because you’re making potpourri!

Love,

Gina