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Our weekend was very laid back. We watched our three Netflix dvds on Saturday--H slept till 1:00, (he didn't get home from work till after 4AM) we made hot dogs: boil dogs, nuke potato rolls and canned chili, add bought coleslaw and French's mustard--Yum!--for lunch and watched Traffic, which neither of us had seen, Prophecy with Elias Kotas (also yum!) and Viggo in a marvelously creepy turn as Lucifer (which actually may have gotten him Aragorn), Walken, Madsen, and my secret boyfriend Eric Stolz as a trenchcoated angel named Simon. Followed that up with Kurt Russell in Dark Blue. The man is a consumate actor, y'know? He just hasn't pushed for the big roles, and he's always been perceived as "cute." During the movie a small gale hit, with horizontal-driven rain, and we had a bit of excitement. We have a roof leak--found a pot to put under it until H can crawl on the roof and fix it. He took a look Sunday, and it's the flashing between the dormer wall and the roof that's out of place. A little elbow grease, a little mastic, and we should be shiny. We both slept late yesterday, napped off and on all morning, and then went to see Whale Rider (finally!) in the afternoon while a pot of beouf bourgingnon simmered. Wonderful film. Lots and lots to think about. And then we ate dinner and watched The Princess Bride special edition dvd last night, first the movie, then all the extras--recent commentary by the participants was most interesting.
And H finally got his two baskets of clean laundry (I have to give him a break here, HE DID the laundry, sorting, hauling to the 'mat, wash, dry, fold, haul home...I put 'our' and mine away, his sat for a few days) put away so I can get to my closet without either shifting the baskets or crawling over the bed. Actually, I just went and looked--yep, one basket was still half-full, both of them stacked on the futon, papers on top. He got the "spare room" cleaned out a couple of weeks ago for M, and his office is cleared down from ceiling height to his desktop--you can actually see formica in places. But he's stopped there. He's back to sitting smack in the middle of the futon (which packs the mattress and sags the springs, of course, rendering it useless for any overnight guests) and using the laptop on top of a box for his bill-paying, rather than cleaning his desk the rest of the way off and sitting there. And of course, receipts and papers and ... stuff has started to ... drift ... around his seat, like sand dunes around a stationary object. So I went and made a spot in the closet in there and put the rest of his clothes away, got the papers off the futon, put some of the new accumulata away (out of sight, at least, if not stored in an organised fashion), and got the baskets out of there.
Part of the problem is laundry. He won't share the machines here with Mom (which I certainly understand, since she washes and reuses rags and dog bedclothes which leave much lint and doghair in the washer) and he has Opinions about laundry, which I neither share nor adhere to, so he would rather do the wash. (Yay!!) But if he's going to spend three hours wash dry fold at the 'mat, he might as well use five machines as one. So he waits a long, long time between washdays, which means he has to have at least two weeks' supply of underwear, socks, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, work clothes. Which means that he needs a closet the size of Texas to store them all. And then he's fond of wearing a shirt for a quick trip out, then refusing to hang it back in the closet because it's not "clean", but it's not "dirty" enough to wash yet, since it can be worn again. So it gets hung on a peg (or on a hanger--on the shower curtain rod--HEY!)... in multiples. I've threatened to turn a bedroom in whatever place we wind up in into his "closet", with a double row of pegs all around the walls, no drawers, no hanging rod--just pegs. And then he wants his shoes out in the air, but not in the bedroom, and not in a closet with clean clothes... so they're all over the floor either in the bathroom (again, HEY!), or the "spare room," again, not conducive to overnight guests. Man needs a whole house just for ALL HIS CLOTHES. He must actually have more than 75 t-shirts, 2 dozen jackets and coats of varying weights/wind/waterproofness, and still buying more. D'ye think he'd notice if I gave the ones packed into the kids' old dresser to Goodwill?
I'm of the opinion you have a small stack unit in the bedroom closet or kitchen, you throw the day's worn clothes in one, then in the other, and you're good to go. You need 5-8 changes of things, and they don't take up much storage room. We differ.
I see serious signs of a hoarding mentality with him, and ennui has me looking at encroaching piles, "..whatever." But I've realized he will NEVER voluntarily do anything about it, and waiting till he does only adds to the piles. So, I must be militantly alert, and sneaky with it, to maintain a certain level of not-swallowed-upness. Sigh. But I want to be the slobby one, the one who doesn't HAVE to clean her room, the one someone else follows along behind and cleans up the messes. Foo.
And H finally got his two baskets of clean laundry (I have to give him a break here, HE DID the laundry, sorting, hauling to the 'mat, wash, dry, fold, haul home...I put 'our' and mine away, his sat for a few days) put away so I can get to my closet without either shifting the baskets or crawling over the bed. Actually, I just went and looked--yep, one basket was still half-full, both of them stacked on the futon, papers on top. He got the "spare room" cleaned out a couple of weeks ago for M, and his office is cleared down from ceiling height to his desktop--you can actually see formica in places. But he's stopped there. He's back to sitting smack in the middle of the futon (which packs the mattress and sags the springs, of course, rendering it useless for any overnight guests) and using the laptop on top of a box for his bill-paying, rather than cleaning his desk the rest of the way off and sitting there. And of course, receipts and papers and ... stuff has started to ... drift ... around his seat, like sand dunes around a stationary object. So I went and made a spot in the closet in there and put the rest of his clothes away, got the papers off the futon, put some of the new accumulata away (out of sight, at least, if not stored in an organised fashion), and got the baskets out of there.
Part of the problem is laundry. He won't share the machines here with Mom (which I certainly understand, since she washes and reuses rags and dog bedclothes which leave much lint and doghair in the washer) and he has Opinions about laundry, which I neither share nor adhere to, so he would rather do the wash. (Yay!!) But if he's going to spend three hours wash dry fold at the 'mat, he might as well use five machines as one. So he waits a long, long time between washdays, which means he has to have at least two weeks' supply of underwear, socks, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, work clothes. Which means that he needs a closet the size of Texas to store them all. And then he's fond of wearing a shirt for a quick trip out, then refusing to hang it back in the closet because it's not "clean", but it's not "dirty" enough to wash yet, since it can be worn again. So it gets hung on a peg (or on a hanger--on the shower curtain rod--HEY!)... in multiples. I've threatened to turn a bedroom in whatever place we wind up in into his "closet", with a double row of pegs all around the walls, no drawers, no hanging rod--just pegs. And then he wants his shoes out in the air, but not in the bedroom, and not in a closet with clean clothes... so they're all over the floor either in the bathroom (again, HEY!), or the "spare room," again, not conducive to overnight guests. Man needs a whole house just for ALL HIS CLOTHES. He must actually have more than 75 t-shirts, 2 dozen jackets and coats of varying weights/wind/waterproofness, and still buying more. D'ye think he'd notice if I gave the ones packed into the kids' old dresser to Goodwill?
I'm of the opinion you have a small stack unit in the bedroom closet or kitchen, you throw the day's worn clothes in one, then in the other, and you're good to go. You need 5-8 changes of things, and they don't take up much storage room. We differ.
I see serious signs of a hoarding mentality with him, and ennui has me looking at encroaching piles, "..whatever." But I've realized he will NEVER voluntarily do anything about it, and waiting till he does only adds to the piles. So, I must be militantly alert, and sneaky with it, to maintain a certain level of not-swallowed-upness. Sigh. But I want to be the slobby one, the one who doesn't HAVE to clean her room, the one someone else follows along behind and cleans up the messes. Foo.