Hello out there! Yes, the silly season it truely upon us. I  can only imagine that we are all so un-idle  at the moment that we have no time to blog?  I can even get the good smells wafting over the air waves and hear the sound of rustling wrapping paper. There must be lots of fabulous Christmas traditions happening. What’s yours? let me know.

Cleaners or Saviours?  Which is the more appropriate term for those wonderful people who come into your house and help you out from time to time with the domestic side of things? 

I returned to part-time work a year ago and enjoy being back out there.  Being me.  Being in a strictly adult environment again.  Using my mind in ways that it hasn’t been used for a long time.  Having pocket money. 

The downside is that I have slowly watched our home crumple into almost-shambles.  Floors weren’t quite as clean, dust everywhere, the new bathroom tiles getting streaky. 

Yes, I am just a teensy bit anal about things being clean and hopefully some sort of tidy. But it had gotten out of control. 

With the job came less time around the house.  The running of cherubs around, the cooking, the washing, the stuff that has to be done or else you can’t really function properly, the social life – all were taken care of – more or less. 

Also, I couldn’t do things I ‘wanted’ to do, you know the less onerous tasks around the house that are a bit of a pleasure to do, because I ‘had’ to do the basic, boring stuff. 

Then I decided that it wasn’t worth me working and then spending the time I had off trying to do everything!  I’m not ashamed to say I’m no modern-day Superwoman.  I don’t want it all – it’s too much to have and cope with.  And you get so tired!

So, I scouted around for someone to help with the domestic chores – yes, a cleaner.  I wanted someone who came with verbal references.  I wanted someone who was reliable and trustworthy.  I wanted someone with my standards.  Impossible you ask?  Well, no. 

I have ended up with not one, but two gorgeous women (sisters) who are friendly, have similar views about cleanliness, I know at least three other people who use them and they’re not monstrously priced.  I was so excited to have them come.  

When we met they kept asking me if I wanted anything else done – it was hard to keep the giggle down.  All I wanted was the basic floors, bathrooms, dusting in obvious spots and then if they had time, the other stuff I didn’t want to do!  Heaven. 

Now, once a fortnight I walk into my home on a Friday afternoon and it smells fresh.  The floors are shining and so are the bathroom tiles.  All horizontal surfaces are gleaming.  Ohhhhh what bliss. 

And the best part?  I have been much more proactive doing those little jobs that got pushed to the back of the pile because there was more important stuff to do.  I feel so much more organised in a much bigger way.  It’s a new kind of freedom – not an indulgence. 

A wise counselor once said to me that the mother is the centre of the universe.  If she’s happy then the universe is happy.  Our little universe in our home is verrry happy at the moment.

Definitely Saviours in my view.

I have struggled with this one for a few weeks now. What will I call myself ? Or more correctly what do I want to be known as? Well, how hard could that be you may ask? It is for a blog and it is anonymous anyway, surely.  Somehow that did not make it easy for me!

To begin with I remembered when I was ten or eleven and we had a CB radio in the kitchen. Trust me it was the Wii of the seventies. …remember Convoy with Kris Kristofferson and all that…

Cause we gotta little ol’ convoy, rockin’ through the night
Yeah we gotta little ol’ convoy, ain’t she a beautiful sight?
Come on an’ join our convoy, ain’t nothin’ gonna git in our way
We’re gonna roll this truckin’ convoy, cross the USA
Convoy… Convoy…

Uh, breaker Pig-Pen, this here’s The Duck
Uh, you wanna back off them hogs
10-4, ’bout five mile or so, 10-roger
Them hogs is gittin’ in-tense up here

My brothers handle (name) was the Red Baron and I was so jealous. It was a great name and added all sort of possibilities to his image. If I remember  correctly my name was Blue Bird and that always seemed in second place to his Red Baron. Anyway, back to the present….

Firstly, in my search for a handle for this blog,  I was thinking of all the famous wives I know. What I came up with as being the most famous wives of all, was the wives of Henry the eighth! As most of them came to a sticky end, one way or the other, I decided to steer clear.

 Then came the descriptive names. I tried ‘Mrs. Best’ which I liked, a lot, but my One and Only (husband) didn’t! Need I say more? ‘Mrs. Not the Worst’ which was his description but he did suggest that it did not sound the same as ‘Mrs. Good Enough’.

I even tried known characters:  Mrs. Money penny (currently active in the Financial Times), Holly Go-lightly (single) or even Roxie Hart (the worst wife in the world). Mrs. Blogg, Mrs. President… But I was getting nowhere. Then when I was least expecting it, it just came to me.  Mrs Mack. Knick, knack, Mrs Mack, gave the dog a bone!

 So, let me tell you about Mrs. Mack from whom I plagiarized the name!  Mrs. Mack is a character in Roddy Doyle’s The Giggler Treatment. The Gigglers are little Elf’s who protect children by punishing adults who are mean to them. The central character is Rover the dog who is integral to delivering the punishment and the Mack family. Mrs Mack is married to Mr Mack, a simple man, who works in a biscuit factory taste testing cream crackers and other biscuits. What I remember of her is that she spends her time looking after her children, the family dog and also is training to climb Mount Blanc or some such high mountain. Her training consists of running up and down the stairs in her home with her youngest child on her back. She has set herself a dream and is working towards it.

Let me pull it out and refresh my memory……