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I have this new thing I do that has me so excited. And it has to do with housecleaning, so it probably won’t excite you the same way, but oh man, it’s effective.

I just haven’t had enough hours in the day recently, and I haven’t had any TV time, or any Wii time, or any real DOWN time — every hour off is scheduled and busy or filled with sleep. So the house has been…. well, let’s just say we have hardwood floors, but it’s been feeling like carpet under foot.

So I’ve done this thing, this very little thing, which helps me clean house FAST. I mean, in one hour, I can get most of the house presentable for company. In two hours, the mirrors are shining and the dining room table is polished. But we rarely have two hours, do we?

Here’s what I do:

I get a notecard and a pen, and walk (quickly) from room to room. I physically enter each room and write down in detail what I want to accomplish in this quick cleaning run. If there are clothes next to the bed and I want them moved to the laundry area, I write that down – "bedroom, pick up clothes." And so it goes.

Water inside plants.
Water plants in front yard.
Change sheets.
Dry towels.
Put away dry dishes.
Wash dirty dishes.
Clean stove.
Clean toilet.
Mop bathroom.
Baking soda carpets.
Vacuum.
Hang up clothes.

Then the best part — I swear I just love this part so much it’s kind of sick — I go over my list and number the worst ones first. Number one is the chore I hate the most. On this list, I think it would be changing the sheets. Number two would be doing the dishes. Number three would be cleaning stove.

Then do them in THAT ORDER. You really only have to number the things you hate to do. I like to water, I like to put away dishes, I like to fold clothes (although I hate to hang them up), and everyone knows I LOVE LOVE LOVE to vacuum with my Dyson (one of the best things we’ve ever bought), so I don’t number them.

But with every dreaded chore completed, the chore you hated most is already done, and only fun lies ahead. And you get to cross things off! Quickly! We all love to cross things off lists, don’t we?

Next weekend, I’m going to clean out my yarn room — that yarn in bags is, indeed, not kitten proof anymore, and I’ve bought some clear plastic bins. And my books are out of control. And my clothes are out of control. I think I will use my notecard method…..

What are your do-stuff-fast cleaning hacks?

Hello, y’all. Just a quick note — I’m at the parents’ house down south — it’s the little mama’s birthday in a few days, and it was La’s birthday on Saturday (good day, deYoung Museum and the Vivienne Westwood exhibit, the Japanese tea gardens, sushi for dinner, and she finally got her Wii (thanks to Celia’s Eva, who helped me find one when I was about to lose hope)).

So I’m skipping out on you again today. But I had a quick question for you, and it’ll be fun.

What’s your favorite knitted item that you made yourself? And by favorite I don’t mean which piece do you love the best, I mean which do you end up wearing the most, and feeling the best in? God knows I have sweaters that I think are great and NEVER EVER wear for one reason or another: they’re not the right size, they shed, they’re too warm, they’re too short, they’re just a little too long….

For me, it’s my green School Products cashmere sweater with the buttons I bought in Venice. I wear it a lot, and I’m always proud of it. I’m proud that it’s unique, that it’s a sweater that actually looks handmade yet still kinda stylish, that it fits well, and that it’s just the right size and weight for foggy days.

Here’s the link for the picture of me wearing it.

Now your turn. Leave me a comment with a link of you wearing your favorite thing you’ve made. Please? Thanks!

(Lala’s brother Richard always called Digit that, for his polydactyl-ism. I loved that. Fingers. Anyway.)

Good morning, kiddos!

I am back to feeling almost normal. Thank god. I do, however, have to have my tonsils out AGAIN, which, while I knew that was a possibility, I don’t think I had actually admitted to myself that it might go that way, so I am disappointed, very, very disappointed. Ick. I am not looking forward to going through the pain I went through in 2002, and the doc said this time it’s gonna be worse. Sigh.

And I pulled a doozy at the doctor, I tell you what. He came in laughing at my chart and my abilities to grow my tonsils back. I made the funny comment that Lala always makes, "It’ll be handy when I lose a finger, huh?"

He just looked at me.

I chortled heartily, trying to warm him up. Funny joke. Haha.

Then he held up his hand, showing me his thumb and his three fingers.

I gasped, and then the only thing I could think of to say was, "I could give you a tonsil?"

He didn’t seem to mind too much, after I reassured him that I hadn’t noticed his hand (I never notice things like that, I have known people for years without realizing they’re missing digits), but I felt like SUCH an ass. I’m never ever making that joke again.

Want some pictures? (Not of the doctor, or his hand. I am not that bad.)

From long, long ago, the day before I got sick. Me and Dylan-pickle, at the zoo, on our date. We had fun.

Artichoke! Almost ready for eatin’. We have four, actually. And that plant is TALL! See?

It’s as tall as I am. And it has baby friends next to it. Yay! More for next year! We seriously ignored this artichoke plant for a year. I think we got one from it last year, and then we gave up gardening for a while, and then looked over the railing this spring to find it was flourishing. Can’t ask for more than that.

The garden grows. The broccoli and beans and soybeans look good – the peppers and basil are taking longer, and I can’t remember what are in the other boxes. Luckily I made myself a seed legend. Just haven’t looked at it recently.

Lala made herself a square-foot garden, too, two weeks later than I did, and she’s already harvesting radishes! Yummy, crisp radishes that I like much more than I remembered. They were always my favorite thing to grow as a kid (even back then I liked instant gratification), but I didn’t like to eat them then. They were just so pretty.

I like this shot:

It’s of the trailing vine that’s coming the back porch — Lala says the name of it all the time, and I never remember it — I just know the flowers look like cartoons, and in my head I call it a monkey-face flower.

Here, Fluffy Willie pretends he can’t see Clara. They get along just fine, but Willie has no interest in snuggling with her.

Unlike Waylon.

As our Carrie would say, "SCHMOOS!"

Durn it. She blogged the unbearable cuteness that is Waylon snuggling with Clara. They’re ridiculously cute.

However, I have this one, which is almost as cute.

Okay, it’s not. But tell me it is, anyway, okay?

I’m at work, as usual. Staying up all night tonight and tomorrow night. Haven’t pulled midnights in a while, and I’m a little scared.

Good golly, I’m boring. G’night.

Apart from the whole breathing at night thing, which I’m not so good at anymore, I’m getting better everyday. Still on antiobiotics, and off to see the ear-nose-throat specialist next week. Thanks for your good wishes.

In the meantime, all is well at the Hehu house. Lala started her really new, really cool job. The dogs and cats are bonding well. Waylon, the smooth haired little kitten, is a spaz, and has very little fear. He’ll walk up to Harriet and rub against her without knowing that that isn’t DONE. And he’s BFF with Clara, who loves him. And I’m telling you, there ain’t much cuter than a small black kitten playing with a big black border collie. Clara is really gentle, even when she puts Waylon’s head in her mouth. The first time she did that, I freaked. But now she does it, and then spits Waylon’s head out, and then gives him punching nose-licks, and Waylon just flops on the floor and waves his paws and purrs and play-fights back.

    Waylon and Miss Idaho, a wee cuddle.

Working like crazy this week, which is where I am now, 72 hours this week, and then one 1/2 day off, and then back for another round. I’ll be working the holiday, and we’re on a new computer system at work, so things aren’t that easy here, but at least they’re interesting. All right, back to it.

Hello, kids! I’ve missed you. Sorry for causing alarm. I am, in fact, still sick, and I believe I’ve been struck with the chronic tonsillitis again. I accidentally went off antibiotics for about 24 hours this weekend, and I got sick again last night, sore throat, white spots, fever, bleah. It’s not a normal strep, and it’s not mono, but the Epstein Barr virus IS active in me, and that can cause this kind of thing, I’ve learned.

Totally has me all bummed out. I think what will probably happen when I see the ear-nose-throat doc is that s/he’ll confirm that it’s chronic, and that my newly regrown and huge tonsils will have to come out again. And it was the MOST awful surgery the first time around. But this is pretty awful in and of itself. I’m just not me. I’m exhausted all the time, can only sit on the couch and watch TV or read, and that completely brings me down, which isn’t a place I like to be. Activity contributes to making me happy, I will admit that, and I haven’t been able to do anything much for about three weeks.

But today I’m back on the antibiotics, and I worked some of last week, about 36 hours, although it was hard and I was weak and puny. I got up at 4:30am on Saturday and did my whole 12 hour shift, which was necessary, but it meant that I couldn’t go see Bjork with knitting pals (although sister Christy got my ticket, and she actually likes Bjork more than I do, so that worked out). And I wanted to do something SO bad on Sunday morning, but I refused to decide if I’d be able to until I woke up yesterday morning.

I woke up, took an inventory of my body, and felt better than I had in weeks. So I got all dressed and picked up my sister and we ran the Bay to Breakers!

Ahem. I will admit that I never know my own limits.

That said, I had a WONDERFUL time. I’ve never run it before, and it was soooo fun.  It’s a 12k (7.5 mile) race that goes from downtown SF, at the Bay, across the entire city to the ocean. 60,000 people run in costume, or in nothing, and they throw corn tortillas in the hour before the race, while you’re lining up. Bands line the route, and block parties are the norm. People drink beer while running, or buy cups of hard lemonade from budding entrepreneurs along the way. All the bars are open. And while I knew about the crazy antics of the runners (my favorite was, of course, the group dressed as salmon, running against the flow of traffic, upstream, yelling "Spawn or die! Spawn or die!"), I had no idea what a party it was along the route. Even the spectators dress up! We passed toga parties and superhero parties, and heavy metal bands set up on rooftops, parties that looked like they’d been going since the night before. It was too much fun.

We walked the Hayes St. Hill, as the majority did, and here’s what it looked like behind us (naked guy is actually made mostly decent by his balloon-strings):

We didn’t expect or need to reach the finish line — I hadn’t run in over a month, what with being sick and all — so we just walked a lot, and shuffled a little run when it was downhill (which was a LOT of the time — we ran way more than we thought we would, just because it was easy). I have blisters today, and various aches and pains, and like I said, I’d forgotten my antibiotics for two doses, so last night I was sick again, and today I’m worn out and a little feverish, but it was worth it. We crossed the finish line triumphantly — o how I love a finish line — and then went to meet friends at the big meetup, Footstock. It was my first time doing anything like that with Christy, and we had the most wonderful time. And while I’m tired today, and still fighting this throat thing, I’m so glad I went. So very, very glad. I feel more like me again.

Lala just called and I told her I was blogging, since I hadn’t in a long time. She said, "yeah, when I’m blogging more than you, there’s a problem." So, hi, y’all. How are you?

(DUDE! I just checked results, and I came in 17,140th place! Christy was 17,139th! Out of 60,000? Whoa! And we were going pretty darn slowly! I should run with drunk people more often. That’s rad.)