My primary goal this weekend was to get the apartment cleaned up. You could describe our place as "cozy" and we'd both know that you really meant "crowded." It looks, as my mom would say, very "lived in." Some happy people and some happy cats live here. You can tell from the blanket-nests full of kitty hair, the piles of books on every flat surface, computer parts in the living room, glue sticks and paper scraps on the kitchen table, and a sink full of dishes.
Guess what? I didn't clean. Instead, I worked on a blanket I'm giving a friend whose baby is due in 2 weeks, ran errands, planted ivy in a hanging basket on the porch, read Diane Ackerman in a frenzy ('cause the list of books I'm dying to read keeps getting longer...if I could just finish the one I've got), had a heart-to-heart with my sister over coffee and zucchini bread at the cafe I like so well, tried not to interfere while Husband and Friend built a computer, and transfered a few loads of laundry (loads that Husband started...I just threw the clean stuff on the bed, and moved the wet clothes to the dryer). And that was all Saturday.
Today, I decided I wanted to make cookies for a birthday party we attended this afternoon, and needed baking supplies. Since it is March 1st (FINALLY! Spring, will you give us another chance?) I got it into my head to find a shamrock shaped cookie cutter. This morning I drove all over town, to 5 different places looking for one. Couldn't find one for the life of me. Settled for alphabet cookie cutters, to just spell a cookie message with. I finally got home (sure Husband had given me up for dead, since I had announced a quick run to the store to pick up butter and sugar, and was gone for over an hour) and tore the kitchen apart in a baking frenzy.
I'm messy in the kitchen. I used to fantasize as a child about how I would be a cooking whiz someday, creating delicacies in a big, grown-up kitchen that stayed magically clean, like commercials for soap where day-old, hardened spills are wiped away instantly. I'm pretty much a grown up now (past the mid-twenties, it's probably too late to cop out) and I am still just as messy. I really do try, but sugar cookies and frosting just don't lend themselves to a spotless workspace. Don't get me wrong, I clean before I bake, and clean up after myself. But the process itself looks like a scene out of that movie Twister. Instead of a mile-wide swath of destruction through cornfields, you can see the scope of my baking in a swath of powdered sugar, egg shells, food coloring, and buttery silverware. But let me tell you what. The result was worth it. YUM.
The weekend is almost over (technically it's already Monday morning...groan). The apartment isn't any cleaner than it was on Friday, but what fun.