I worked my tail off today…so did Kip. We cleaned the RV before we left the park this morning, and then headed for the small house. Sometimes it’s better not to know what lies ahead.
We brought everything inside and dropped it wherever. I started washing all the rugs and bedding from the RV before we began surveying the state of the small house.
I felt crummy all day, but made the decision to ignore it.
Here are a few before pictures.
I made them go by fast and you can’t begin to see all of the dirt. Every cupboard in the kitchen and it’s contents had to be cleaned. I worked for six hours without a break and I’m only halfway through it all. I took the opportunity to clean the fridge too, since it was empty.
Kip got the television hooked up and finished the wiring for the recliners. The wiring is now under the floor. I’m kicked back in my recliner right now.
I think I’ve got carpal tunnel syndrome.
We went to Cochran’s Cafeteria for chicken fingers which stopped the momentum. I have some peach cobbler in the fridge, but right now it doesn’t sound good, which confirms…
I am very sick.
This is really a lovely story isn’t it? I’ll try to take it in another direction.
My mom didn’t work when I was growing up and she hated housework. She never made me do much cleaning either. The house we lived in until I was eleven was a ranch style with a big finished basement.
Standing in front of the new house. Aunt Elna Miller is on the left, then Andrea, Mom with her arms around Greg, Aunt Ella Leckey, I don’t know who the next three are. Stephanie Miller and I are standing in front of my horse.
One summer, Mom noticed there were a lot of tourists driving around town looking for a motel. All of the rooms in town were rented. There was no more room at the inn…except in our basement.
My brother’s room was downstairs, and there were also two big open areas that had some couches and chairs in them. Mom got some rollaway beds, some extra towels for Billy’s bathroom, and opened up for business. I can’t really remember how she found the tourists and convinced them to stay at our house, and I don’t remember a sign in the yard. My guess would be she drove around in her car and flagged them down. I suppose she got some referrals from other motels once they were full. She loved the extra cash. As far as I remember, Billy didn’t have to rent his room out…most of the time.
Thus began Mom’s career. Dad had a lot of plumbing and heating jobs out of town. He discovered Mom’s “business” when he came home one night and the basement was full of strangers. He woke Billy up and asked him where Mom and Mary were. Billy started crying because Dad woke him up, and said we were at the new house, which is what we called that house. Mom and I were in our rooms upstairs.
Eventually, we built a real motel, which Mom ran brilliantly. Years later, she married Gus, and he did the hard work. By that time it needed painting and other updates. I remember Gus refinished all the doors.
Mom sitting on the brick planter at the motel. She grew beautiful patunias and marigolds every year…or tomatoes.
Mom didn’t do hard physical labor unless you count loading up all the dirty towels in her trunk and hauling them to the laundromat every morning. She turned out to be a shrewed businesswoman though.
It must be time for me to go to bed, I’m not tired anymore.
Don’t get me wrong. Our house was pretty clean most of the time. She hired one of my cousins or her friend, Roni to do the periodic heavy cleaning.
A motel keeps you tied down. You give up summer vacations and can’t take many days off. I was in my twenties and living in Wyoming when Mom and Gus sold the motel. They bought a travel trailer and took off for parts unknown.
As I was filling up buckets of soapy water and using every complaining muscle I have, I could see Mom looking at me sideways and shaking her head. “I wasn’t made to work hard,” she said.
Mom and I in front of the new house a few years after she started renting out our basement.