Home  Scrap Musings Scrap Musings A Time to Scrap |
by Shan
 Women are born with it, it gets worse after childbirth and its something men take advantage of from time to time.. and if you think I’m talking about your bits and bobs girls your wrong, I’m of course referring to “GUILT”. That troublesome emotion which “takes the gilt off the gingerbread” as my grandmother would say (which I can only imagine means that it takes the edge off your enjoyment – unless of course she really did have a problem with gingerbread, but there’s another story)
An example of this was evident the other day. I had planned a most glorious day. The boys were out at school, dearest darling left the house with the parting words, “enjoy your day off” and the house was mine, all mine. This was the day I was going to produce a glorious piece of work or two for my scrapbook. Take my time flicking through fonts, idly spread my Bazill out over the floor, sip tea and delicately dunk chocolate digestives whilst dipping in and out of my artbin. I’ll just have a shower I thought. I’d best clean the bathroom actually, I thought, as I wafted a towel and watched the fluff rise and fall on the side of the bath, I’ll just dry off my hair I thought, I’ll just dust my bedroom with a sock from the laundry bin I thought watching the dust billow up from the dressing table as a result of my wafting hairdryer… and before I knew it, it was 10.30 and I was in my underwear upstairs cleaning.
Now you may be thinking, what a slovenly slut of a girl, dusting with a
sock and wallowing in a grubby bathroom. Well, I’ve never been
terribly big on housework, you should be thankful I didn’t give a full
description of the bathrooms unholy findings including a rather dubious
cotton bud. My house isn’t dirty generally, but it is messy. I don’t
understand how some people can live in “show homes” I really am at a
loss as to where they put everything. Where are those piles of papers
that appear as if by magic on the kitchen side, where do they keep
their shoes? and why is there no evidence of children apart from the
children themselves – no toys or clutter just kids… very odd.
Anyway, I managed to get myself downstairs to the den of iniquity, my
scrapping area. And then the phone rang. I didn’t answer it. But
there it was, the little pang of guilt, so I went and did 1471 and it
was my mum – had to ring back of course… half an hour later I’m back
at the Bazill.
Ok, so the day followed basically that pattern. Attempting to scrap,
remembering something I SHOULD be doing instead… and I achieved a very
mediocre layout, slightly rushed and not very artistic. I was happy
with it, but knew I could have done better. But my house was like a
new pin (OK, well a kind of second hand pin), and when Dearest Darling
returned he admired the housework and was happy, flicked an eye over my
layout and then raised it to heaven, the kids were happy because they
got a nice dinner and Mother was happy because I had used her
revolutionary tips on loading the dishwasher. I was happy too, with no
guilt hanging over me.
But still, I could have done better with that layout, oh and I really
should have emptied the tumble dryer and got another load in before tea…
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