Week One: Hybrid Cure, The Interview and Quiz

Just so you know, this sort of exercise brings out the very worst in me: not only do I tend to go all analytical and question every little thing to death as you will see, I start making excuses for myself, too. Ugh. I've tried my best to edit out the excuses and I apologize in advance for any bits which don't make sense.

Before The Cure proper begins, the author of Apartment Therapy: The Eight Step Home Cure, Maxwell Gillingham-Ryan (M G-R), asks his reader to complete both an "interview" and a quiz to help one get into the proper frame of mind for "Curing" one's home.

The Interview is in three parts.

The first asks for a list of favourites in the following categories:
Actress, actor, artist, Writer, Music, Resteraunt, Automobile, TV show and Clothing (designer or store.)
He then asks us to define our style in three words.

In the second part, we're to delve into our personal history and talk about where we have lived, who our role model in life may be, and to list three adjectives to describe those qualities we admire in that role model .

The third bit deals with the apartment or house proper. I deal with each of the questions in this part below.

M G-R then talks about "how" we answer these sorts of questions and what that may reveal about us. For example, if we answer quickly, it means we make decisions quickly. If we answer slowly, he writes, we are careful decision makers (in need of "pushing." Yes, he actually says we need to be pushed.) That's the context, for those of you who do not have the book, for the following discussion below.

The Interview poses tremendous problems for me because I do not --and have not-- followed popular culture for quite a while now. A few years ago, I picked up an "Us" magazine and could not identify more than one or two celebrities inside its pages.

Do you know this woman? I don't. But I like her hair. Great smile, too.

I have made some efforts since then to get to know this crazy world--a least a little bit--but I still don't have "favourites."

Well, Ok, I lied. Sort of. Here's a favourite. But is he my most favourite actor, ever? No. He may have my most favourite deltoids ever, though.

Leaving blanks, M G-R writes, means I have a weak sense of personal style (and need to imitate others). As to that, I don't think so, but really, how would I know? My lack of budget coupled with a dearth of shopping options means I don't really have the option of imitating others. Do I want to? I can't answer that properly. Sometimes. Yes. Other times, no.

source: Miles Redd, via Little Green Notebook. Here, I want to imitate the inimitable; Redd's boldness and confidence.

Honestly, it's so hypothetical, I don't think about it much. When I do suffer from an acute attack of covetousness, I just walk away from the computer for a while.

M G-R says that having difficulty naming an artist means I am more analytical and less visually oriented. He writes that I "need to look at a lot of pictures to improve visual knowledge." Harumph. Not likely. It simply means I don't know people's names. I am analytical, yes, but my visual knowledge is just fine, thank you very much!

It is true that I'm always agonizing over "my style" but that's just because I've been looking outwards, not inwards, for its definition. This Interview doesn't help me. It encourages me to look outward--towards others--for self-identification. I think that that's looking in the wrong direction.

I love Helen Hunt, but do I want to imitate her? No. I don't even understand what that would mean. Is she my most favourite actress, ever? No. I don't know what that would mean either, especially as it relates to my taste in decor. At best, she's a metaphor, a sign that points towards something else that translates into something that informs and expresses my personal style. At least, I think that's what's supposed to be going on. But I just don't know. I just don't "speak" the language of popular culture.

Delving into my personal history is not all that terribly helpful. Until I married, I never lived in one place for longer than a couple of years. After the first few years of marriage, I had a terrible time coming to the realization that I wasn't going to move. I felt stuck. I was also overwhelmed with a husband and children. After all, my entire history to that point--an only child in a one parent household-- an adult who couldn't stand room mates--had been as a quite self-satisfied loner. I've now been married fourteen years today and though I've gotten over the shock of constantly living with other human beings, I'm still making necessary adjustments.

Nonetheless, the portion of the Interview which does deal with my abode is helpful. Here are the questions and my responses:

What are its problems?
1. It's small for four people--especially as two of them are growing bigger every year!
2. It is cluttered. Still.
3. It is noisy. We need good headphones--at least two pairs--with long cords.

If the house could speak, what would it say?
I'm boring, dull, and tired. I'm old. My knees creak. My back aches--oops, I think that's me, not the house talking!

What do I want to do more of?
Plan things. The dining room table is supposed to be the place for that,but it is really just a clutter magnet.

Hmmm. What else?

Sit comfortably. I always seem to sit in hard wooden seats. For example, I'm always in the rocking chair when we watch TV, not on the couch.


How would I want someone to describe my home eight weeks from now?
1. Pleasant
2. Inviting
3. Appropriate--M G-R's sense of a home"well thought out" with a strong sense of purpose and focus. (p. 36).

The Quiz on page 48 looks even further inward towards the house proper. It is much more productive and revealing.

Unfortunately, I scored an 8 which diagnoses my home as

Weak. Energy drain. Visible problems in need of work have probably been put off for some time. p. 49

I suppose the divots in the kitchen floor tiles are a clue to the truth of that (as well as the state of the downstairs bathroom. It needs a complete overhaul.)

In particular, according to the little quiz,

head:
My home does not support everything I want to do.

heart:
I do not consider my home to be beautiful. (Adequate and tasteful and pleasant when clean. Beautiful? no.)
My clothing does not express my style. (I protest the presence of this question. This has nothing to do with my home!)

breath:
My home is not easy to clean and declutter. (Given my laziness and distaste for cleaning, would any home be easy for me?)

and then, the bones:
My home is not in good shape.
Not everything is in good working order.
We do not take care of repairs quickly.
I do not clean my home often. (Well, sometimes I do, and then sometimes a long time will go by without certain things being done as frequently as they ought.)

oooh--all my dark and terrible secrets laid out.

Should you be so inclined, I'd love to know how you fare with the interview and the quiz.

WT: The Quiz

Whooo hoo, here we go!
I remember doing this the last time--zooza and I found ourselves at a pyjama party! It was just like having a slumber party, but on-line and on different continents.

Btw, I hate quizzes. My enthusiasm is merely for the process itself. Like scb, I too am not going to look at last fall's quiz.

Favorites

Who is your candidate for Best Dressed, real or fictional?
You know, I don't know anyone's names. I am a complete ignoramus when it comes to popular culture. I do like what The Sartoralist photographs, however. Of course, I love photography and his is stellar.

What is your favorite garment or outfit ever?
I suppose this would be embarrassing if it differs from what I wrote last fall, but I loved a particular little navy polka dot number with a flirty skit, and granny boots.(This was the early nineties folks--I was nearly a decade ahead of my time).

What is your current favorite garment? My Brax jeans. I noticed just a few days ago that they're starting to go rabbitty. I'm going to cry.

What would be your favorite thing to wear, if reality were not an issue?
Cute clothes. Dresses and pretty sandals.

Where would you shop, if money, time, and geography were not issues? A second hand shop in, oh, say Paris.

What's your favorite fashion faux pas story to tell, now that the scars have healed? Yeah. We're coming up on eleven years, so maybe it's time.
My wedding day. My dress. What's the term for it? It had no shoulders or sleeves--just a bodice and a skirt. I had no jewellery. None! My neck was bare, my ears were naked: I looked like I woke up and just threw the dress on and ran to Church. In a way, that's what happened. When I arrived at my Mom's--in plenty of time to dress--she hadn't finished sewing it yet. I was over an hour late for the ceremony. And my hair was a mess.

What colors do you associate with happiness? (Your Joyous Colors)
Pink, and red.

How You Live

If there were a uniform for where you spend most of your time, what would it be? Jeans, some sort of top with sleeves that don't fall into the dishwater and an unfussy bib apron in a joyous print.

If there were a uniform for where you spend your leisure, what would it be? Hi Susie! Throw me that magazine, will ya?
Sorry, Pj's.

Your Wardrobe

What is the problem with your wardrobe? (Maximum of three bullet points)

--there isn't enough of it.
--it is B-O-R-I-N-G.

If your wardrobe could speak, what would it say is the problem? It's Ok to wear shorts. Really, it's OK. People do not look at fat knees. Honest.

What would you like your wardrobe to do more of? Tell the truth. Ack no, never that. It should flatter and disguise.

What would you like people to say about how you dress? (Max 3)Nothing. I don't want them to say one little thing, except, maybe, "You look great."
(I make eye contact--a lot. I gesture with my hands when I speak. My face wears my expression--always. (Got me into trouble a lot when I was a young'un.) I don't think anyone notices what I wear. At least, I hope not.)

What, that's it, we're done?
I really must go and unpack my summer clothes and take a look at them. Then, perhaps, they'll speak more clearly. I wonder where I put them?

I'm In: The Housekeeping Quiz.

I'm dogged tired--see post below--so I'll do my best to keep it brief. As usual, I could tell you my life history here--and it'll be hard not to ramble. (It takes energy and focus to be brief and pithy but tomorrow will be worse than today, so....)

How would you describe your housekeeping style (3 words)?
1. inconsistent
2. slovenly
3. insane

Who is your housekeeping Iconic Figure? Martha Stewart? Felix Unger? Oscar Madison? (Edit : Those are just suggestions, it could be someone else entirely.)

1. No clue. Maybe Don Aslett. Nah. Erma Bombeck who wisely said "Cleaning the house when you have children is like shovelling the snow while it's still snowing." Or something like that.

Why? (Aha! Caught ya. You thought you weren't going to have to explain anything. That isn't how this works.)
'cause I think I ought to be able to keep the house clean, neat and orderly (Don Aslett) and because I know that that minimum is a mean feat of extraordinary effort and organization.

Who would you consider a role model when it comes to housekeeping? That differs from the question above in that I want you to think about someone you know, whose style you might want to emulate in some way.

1. Oh dear. Here's the temptation to write the tome.
My grandmother. I spent a LOT of time with her as a child. Every summer from the age of four to fourteen and one six month period when I was 11. She never sat down. She had a routine for everything. Take the dirty clothes to the washer everyday. (I was to put my dirty underthings outside my door every night before bed. Couldn't do it). Do the dishes after every meal and before bed, then sweep the floor. (My job was to dry them, wipe down the drainboard when I was finished and hang my towel up to dry.) She vacuumed everyday. Dry dusted. Made her bed. Kept two gardens and hung the laundry out by hand.

She cooked every meal, served as the Church Secretary, a secretary/book keeper for the small claims court in her county (my grandfather was a part-time process server) from home. She worked part time at the "Ag" office (The agricultural Office in her farming community) two or three days a week--and she would walk everywhere. All this, and this was when she was fifty--sixty? She also volunteered for meals on wheels, hosted bridge parties every Saturday night and played golf, shuffleboard and curled.

She didn't sew, knit or do handicrafts in any way. She hardly ever read a book--no time. Relaxation was the crossword. She didn't like accepting help and so, other than dry dusting and drying the dishes (and once cleaning the crystals on the chandelier) I never learned to do anything. I certainly never learned how to keep house.

Why? (You knew that was coming this time, didn't you?)
Because she told me too. Because, even though she didn't tell me how to do it, she taught me it was possible and pleasant to have a neat, clean orderly household where you always knew where everything was.

All this leads up to -- what do you want from the way you keep your home? What level of cleanliness/tidiness is important to you on a daily/weekly basis? What purpose (other than keeping the health inspector from pounding on the door) is this to achieve -- for example, do you need to be company-ready at a moment's notice?

I don't need to be company ready at a moment's notice. I did Flylady consistently for three months. At the end of it, I was wandering around the house with very little to do--and afraid to do anything that might make a mess--like crafts with the kids, my scrapbooking. I even resented the fact that my kids were going through that "don't mix food" phase, so I couldn't cook everything in one pot. I went insane if anyone spilled anything. (I'd think, "The work, the work, why doesn't anyone respect my work?" Junk thoughts like that.) It wasn't workable and I really didn't like living in a "magazine-ready" house.

On the other hand, things aren't working now. Let's see, at supper--pancakes and bacon--on the table we had a five inch thick pad of construction paper, a history encyclopedia with loose pages sticking out of it, butter, two dirty glasses from another meal, a half filled coffee mug, a box of craft paint, a colouring book, a container of coloured pencils, a shelter magazine, the phonebook, a candlestick, a math book, homework from Stomp's obedience class from last night, a napkin holder with napkins (which no one used), newspaper, the book my husband is reading, the book my son is reading, a glass of coke, a plate of toast, peanut butter and chocolate chips from breakfast, a comb, a tube of vaseline, a package of blue tacky stuff used to fix stuff to the wall, a travel mug, a folded twin flannel sheet, and a box of six glasses purchased from Ikea this afternoon, unopened. We actually had a pleasant meal. Nobody fussed. The problem was finding enough cutlery for everyone to eat with. There wasn't room on the stove for the frying pans.

One word: function. I want things to come up to the level of functioning well. No midnight trips to the basement to find socks and underwear for the morning. or pants. or toilet paper. or lightbulbs.

What, if anything, is standing in the way of that level of cleanliness/tidiness being achieved? Are the obstacles
1. Physical -- is there something about the way some part of your home is arranged or organized that isn't working for the function(s) that area needs to fulfill?

Yep. Not enough counter space. Not enough storage space. Traffic patterns are bad (there's always somebody in the way of where I need to go). The back door area is a psychological black hole and now that we're down to one car (and kept in the garage) that's the door we use. The kitchen table, as noted, is ample, but it's difficult to clean underneath it. The dog loves the broom and chases it across the floor.

2. Psychological -- is there something within yourself that's keeping you from dealing with what's necessary to keep your home the way you want to?

Hmm. Probably.

Is there some form of motivation or reward that might help?

Now here, I almost refuse to even consider this. We set up a traditional household. He works outside the home, I work inside. It could have been otherwise. I've gone from being an independent single hard-working woman to a 50's style stay at home wife and mother with none of the perks (afternoon chats with others in the same situation), children who can be left to play in packs with each other, unsupervised in neighbourhood parks, or even at school.
But, you see, I chose this. I shouldn't chafe. My husband doesn't think he should get a "reward" for getting up and going to work every day--why should I? It's my "job." (Though I do tell him that putting away the peanut butter wasn't in the marriage contract).

3. Equipment -- is something not working for you, e.g. vacuum cleaner not up to par, or somesuch?

Vacuum cleaner is fine.
Feather dusters are shedding.
Broom is trashed, time for a new one.
Mop is terrible. Leaves far too much water on the floor. Hard to clean between washings, too.
Toilet brushes are unattractive but serviceable.
Dish cloths need replacing. (Why is it so hard to find decent dish cloths?)
Scrub brush needs replacing.
And my bottle brush is missing.

Hmm. I think I need new cleaning supplies!

Sartorical Sabbatical: A Quiz

Which are you more likely to serve for Sunday supper?
A. Roast Chicken with home grown vegetables and fresh parsley
B. Take-out.
C. Capons with home-made chutney.
D. Cooked chicken from the supermarket and pre-bagged salad.

On Mondays you--
A. Do the laundry, of course.
B. Dahling, have you never heard of a laundry service?
C. Read. At last, the kids are back in school.
D. Shop.

When you wash the floors you
A. Use a mop
B. Sweep up for the cleaning lady.
C. Hand and knees. It's the only way to get them really shiny.
D. Are they dirty?

Your most favourite gift in the world would be
A. Tickets to the Folk Festival.
B. A hefty gift certificate to a fabulous restaurant.
C. A hefty gift certificate to your favourite second hand book shop
D. Tickets to a play.

Your favourite vacation spot is
A. In the mountains with your family.
B. Paris. or India.
C. London
D. The shopping Mall of America

A treasured evening would be:
A. Teaching my daughter to knit.
B. A jazz concert
C. Oh, anywhere is fine. As long as we get out of the house.
D. Upstairs.

At a party, you tend to talk to people who are
A. organizing the next drive for the local food bank
B. witty
C. we get to talk to other people?
D. wearing great shoes

In your living room you have
A. Great Grandmother's antiques.
B. The Petrie sofa.
C. A Danish teak sideboard.
D. A bar, of course.

Analyses and Confession.

Spiffing up the faux fireplace. This is one project I'm going to finish during the cure.

That was awful. Truly. We are homeowners, for heaven's sake. We wait on no one but ourselves to look after things.

I have to change my focus. I can't wail and moan about what's wrong: instead I need to ask myself whatever I used to ask myself when I was in school and didn't score as well as I'd wanted. That's it. What do I need to do to increase my score?

What was my score?
oh yeah. 4.5/16.

Maxwell considers an A- to be about a 12.
So, how do I "get" 8 points?


A. Let's see. If I make it as easy to clean as possible, that would be 2 points right there. #12 and #16.

What do I need to do to accomplish that?
1. declutter (duh)
2. Set up routines. That's the key for me. I'm really, really bad at sticking to a routine that involves housekeeping. Nasty word, that. "Housekeeping." But I've been down this road before and I really can do it again. For anyone else struggling with this, there's a great list of "Daily Minimums" over at organized home. (see link on right).


But hey, a clean home can be a beautiful home, too. Sure I'd like better quality furniture, etc., but when this place sparkles, it is actually quite a pleasant place to be. So, it would improve my score on #5 and #9 too. Four whopping points just from cleaning. Wow. No wonder Maxwell focuses so much on it in the Deep Treatment. (But then, he wrote the quiz too, didn't he?)


B. Set up a small sewing area in the basement. Put the machine up. Sew a cover for it. Put the sewing supplies in a handy spot. I CAN do this. Lighting is a problem, but that's why they invented extension cords, isn't it?
That'd be 1 point. (#4)


C. Establish rules and limits for TV and computer time for the kids. That would greatly cut down on the noise. That helps address #1. It would also contribute to our overall comfort. 1 point. (#9)


Hey, we're up to 6 points. Not bad.


D. Figure out my style. Express it in my home and start wearing it. Hmm. That's 3 points! (#s 6, 7, 8)


E. And, of course, what REALLY needs to be done, I've been too embarrassed to say. But here goes.


Upstairs bath:
1. Replace forty? fifty? -year old toilet in upstairs powder room. (It works fine--as long as you hold down the handle for longer than a second. It's just nasty.)
2. Replace the flooring.


Downstairs bath:
3. Replace the flooring.
4. Fix the hole in the wall.
5. Re-grout the bath tub and the toilet.
6. Replace tub and shower surround with something decent.


Kitchen:
7. Replace the floor tiles.
8. Repaint cabinets and walls.
9. Wash oven and stove.
10. Wash fridge.
11. Wash ceiling, doors and door trim.
12. Replace chipping, rusting faucet.


Dining Room:
13. I want to re-do the whole room. Does it need to be done? Not really. I have been finding the colour in here very dark, lately. It's been bugging me. It's just more fun than everything else!


Living Room:
14. Finish Fireplace Project
15. Hang brown drapes.
16. Hem brown drapes.
17. Sew curtains from fabric purchased a year ago.
18. Clean the sofa. (Oh, the sofa. That's a whole other post).
19. Take out the bench and put in the small round table so we can play games, do puzzles, etc. Find chairs for it?
20. Get new lampshades or do something with the ones we have.
21. What on eath can we do about the HUGE crack in the wall? We've already patched it with an expandable compound. It opens and closes of its own accord, depending on the weather. I'm not sure there's really anything we can do about it without somehow involving the roof--or the foundation--it's a "serious injury" as Maxwell terms these things, but we truly feel helpless before it.

Master Bedroom:
22. Re-paint.
23. Create headboard and "feature" wall.
24. Finish painting the dressers.
25. Figure out the "look" I want to create in there.


Actually, take #25 and multiply it by every room. So, figuring out "my style" is even more important than I'd thought.


Obviously, our budget (which is non-existent) and my time (severely limited this go round) prohibit doing most of this list.


But it will be good to use it to focus my attention over the next eight weeks and not get side-tracked into doing fun, but non-essential things, like styling my bookshelves.
I think I'll be "doing the cure" for a long time.

Next post: doable (low cost) project list, with (a few) "before" pics.

A Quiz.

(image from members.aol.com/djadamson4/quiz.jpg)

Ok, kids. It's time to take out your pencils and take the quiz. Don't they look like they're having fun. Maybe we will too!

Have you noticed? Quizzes and questionnaires are ubiquitous in cleaning, decluttering, and Organize Your Life! books. One can't just read and think. No. One must confess! Maxwell does not disappoint. He includes two. Both such fun.

The first is a style "interview" which is pretty hopeless. Dr. Wende did it here and an excellent job she did of it too. I've done mine, but the meaning of the answers is as clear to me as three coats of black paint.

More useful is the second quiz. The whole Head, Heart, Bones, Breath thing. (Class, turn your book to page 48.)

So, let's sharpen those pencils and away we go!

Head

1. Does your home support everything you want to do?

Well, I don't have a swimming pool. I'd love to do laps every morning from home. And I hate hollering. Maybe we could install an intercom system throughout the house. Nah. That would wreck the walls. OK. Beepers for everyone, then. But that's nuts. The ringing would drive me crazy. (And of course they'd have to be on ringers, no one would find his otherwise!)

It's crowded in here. Noisy. I'd like to be able to listen to music more. I'd like my sewing machine set up. A laundry chute. More quiet.

2. Do you use your home often?
This is one of THOSE New Yorky type questions. Or San Fransisco type where there's decent street life and wonderful food around every corner. Of course I use my home often. Where else would we go? At least I get to score on this one!
3. Is there room for everything you want to do in your home?
This looks suspiciously similar to #1. No. There's no room for a lap pool. Heck, there isn't even room to plug in a lamp where I want to.
4. Is there a good space for what is most important to you?
Oh dear. What's most important to me?
I love to read. I have exactly two places to do that in comfort. Of course, I can't do it in the living room while the kids watch TV and the bedroom is pretty far away.
I teach the kids at home. We do it in the kitchen. And it works in there if I bring in only one subject at a time. It's inconvenient--but there is space for it. (Barely.)
I wonder what my ("I don't have any hobbies" ) husband would say to this one?
Is this a yes or no? I'll give myself 1/2 a point.
Heart
5. Do you consider your home beautiful?
No. I'm glad Maxwell made this subjective. I could change this answer and not do a thing to the house. All I need to do is change what it is I consider beautiful. (Or marry a really, really rich guy. I don't think Maxwell had that in mind.)

6. Do you feel you have a sense of style?

Good grief, what kind of question is this? Can I recognize style when I see it? Yes. Do I appreciate it? Oh yes. Do I express it? Am I stylish? Um. No. (Sorry, you can click away now.)
7. Does your clothing express your style?
I have a complete wardrobe suitable for painting in all weather. Does that count?
8. Does your home express your style?
I'm thumping my head on my desk. Does that answer your question?
Moving on.
Breath
9. Do you consider your home comfortable?
Did I mention I have two comfy spots to read? Yes. I did. Did I mention that I hardly sit in either spot? You figured that out, didn't you? The bathroom has no heat. But that's OK, it's too small to get dressed in, anyway. Um, OK, this is depressing. Short answer: No.
10. Do you sleep well at night?
Would you sleep well with a seven year old thrasher between you and your husband/partner/significant other/whatever you want to call him or her?

11. Is your apartment organized?

Actually, yes. The house is organized. Now, if folks would just put things back after they use them, it would stay organized!
12. Is it easy to clean and declutter?
It's never easy to clean. I hate cleaning. Always easy to declutter. (I know where the trash bags are. I think.) I have trouble letting go of stuff.
Bones.
13. Do you consider your home to be in good shape?
I'm thumping my head on the desk. I think I'd rather go wash the tiles peeling off the kitchen floor now.
14. Is everything in good working order?
As a matter of fact, as long as we remember to snake the bathroom sink drain once a month, we're good to go.
15. Do you take care of repairs quickly?
What's quickly?
16. Do you clean your home often?
Everyday. Does it stay clean? (See above). Is it all clean, all at once? I think it was, for about two whole days, back in 2000. That was when my grandmother and my aunt came to visit. Oh, and I guess last year too, when the m-i-l descended upon us for four days. Hmm.
Good grief, it's time for chocolate. Now.