|The image will take you to Smashwords,just one place the book is on sale.|
Now that's out of the way, back to my ramblings about life. Been a heck of a week. We suffered our first winter colds and didn't cope well. My husband, who is thoughtful like that, brought a cold home from work and shared it with the rest of us. Being a man, he declared he was too ill for life and took to his bed for three days. I ribbed him endlessly about being pathetic and suffering from 'man flu' - then I got the cold. My brain collapsed completely and I took to bed for three days... I NEVER do that. Mothers don't get to be sick. It's not allowed. I honestly think I could be standing in my kitchen with a limb hanging off, blood spurting everywhere and someone would still ask me to make them a snack!
Anyway, not only did my husband take the higher ground and NOT rib me about catching 'man flu', he stepped up and took care of me beautifully. He also cleaned obsessively. Now, I'm the first to admit that my husband does most of the cleaning anyway. Mainly because he likes it and I don't want to ruin his fun. But this was beyond the normal level of cleaning, this was industrial strength. I was glad I was in bed otherwise I may have been polished and put away. Obviously I don't mind his cleaning - which woman in her right mind would? - but I do hate that I can't find anything for weeks after he's done. Nothing ever gets put in the same place twice. And heaven help us if he's thinking about other things while he tidies. Then he has no idea where he's putting anything. I once opened the oven to find his shoes put away neatly...
I think this cleaning thing is his Dutch heritage. Every Dutch person I know is obsessed with cleaning their houses. I've been a witness to many conversations that basically went - "my house is cleaner than your house, so there!" Being a Scottish slob, this is a mystery to me. Years ago, I was reading an art history book in bed and found a photo of a 17th Century Dutch painting (see below). The description of the painting said that, back then, the Dutch identity was tied to cleanliness and productivity. I thought this was hilarious and woke my husband up to tell him nothing had changed in the three hundred years since the painting was made. He wasn't amused.
|The Linen Cupboard by Pieter De Hooch 1663|