Catch Up

I have been so much away from the computer, that I actually bought a digital recorder to replace the blog. It doesn't really.

This is all just blather and notekeeping. Ignore.

Insecticide drenched clothing. See permethrin. I think its kind of like a poison and causes cancers, but if it keeps those damn bugs away. See also Tommy Hilfiger, LL Bean, the Armed Forces. Buzz Off Insect Shield makes the material. While studies haven't found any long-term health effects for humans, yet, it is recommended that you don't wear the clothes in areas where there are no bugs or during the winter. Unless of course the shirt is stylin.

I like the new movement underfoot that messiness should be tolerated, that we have more important things to do than make sure there are no dirty dishes in the sink. I tried that for a few weeks this spring, and develped a carpenter ant problem that demanded I coat every surface in my house with Buzz Off contact paper. (No, I don't know if they make it.) Yes, yes, there are more important things one could be doing than cleaning up, but I am not sure people realize the repurcussions of not doing it. For example, got paper? It is entirely possible that a raccoon is hanging out in your living room, hiding out behind the stacks by day and swizzing half empty beer cans and eating the crumbs from the granola bar wrappers during the tonight show after you have crashed. Speaking of raccoons and garbage food, avoid Over the Hedge at all costs. Because I give birth like whales and elephants, only once every so often but never say die, I have 17 years of animation expertise. Actually, as movies go, I know black and white and animated. If Pixar hadn't come along, I would have offed myself by now. Cars opens tonight.

Anyway, where was I. Oh, right, women still do more of the housework in heterosexual relationships. The solution isn't nagging the less than helpful spouse. The solution might be to hire a cleaning team. When I am working, I don't earn money. So cleaning myself costs. Because I am so inept at it, (I pick up a stack of magazines, and find one I haven't read, so I sit down and look through it and suddenly six hours have passed, or I pick up a pair of pants and find a button missing, get out the sewing stuff and decide that what the house really needs is a pair of off white slipcovers and I'm off to the store - I clean house like a squirrel) there truly is only one solution: Someone else must do it. End of discussion. No university study required.