Big Mistake

It doesn’t happen often.  Mr Dear Husband will tell you I never make mistakes.  It is his #1 rule to surviving in this marriage.  I am always right, he is wrong.  But yesterday, I will admit, my halo slipped a little and I did something that completely demoralised me.  I spent two hours reading the Martha Stewart website.

What was I thinking!  I know, right… it’s not like she is perfect, we all know that now.  Martha went to prison, not even I have done that, although I will admit to a few close calls…one particular incident at an airport in India, resulted in Mr Dear Husband uttering the words, “Please sit down and be quiet, or you are going to end up some butch axe murderer woman’s cell mate, where she will refer to you as her Sugarpie".” You wouldn’t have recognised me, I was as quiet as a mouse.

Martha, Martha, Martha, what are you doing to me.  I looked to you for some solace.  My house is in that 87% stage of unpacked boxes and renovation and I have just plain run out of steam.  I needed inspiration.  What did you give me?  A big damn dose of inferiority syndrome.

Nobody can be that perfect.  The woman has a ‘craft’ loft (not room, but loft).  Neatly divided up into separate areas, with all the necessary equipment, stored, labelled and ready to go.  It doesn’t work like that here.  I am still looking for the sticky tape from before Christmas, thus resulting in all my Christmas parcels being tied up with kitchen string – I told them it was artistic and a reflection on the economic climate – nobody bought it.

This morning I was standing in the cold and nasty room of our cellar that is The Laundry.  I kept seeing the bright, shiny laundry room that Martha has.  With its neatly labelled baskets, bottles and boxes.  A special padded table for ironing, wire baskets on wheels for sorting (with padding around the edge so as not to bump and scrape the furniture), industrial lighting and recycling bins with wheels.  Hey, Martha’s laundry is nicer than my bedroom… that can’t be right.

Martha's Basement 2 IMG_7107 So here you see Martha’s Cellar – then LuLu’s Cellar

Martha's Basement IMG_7108 And again Martha – LuLu.  My laundry looks like the kind of place that certain Austrian’s like to keep their ‘family’ for 24 years.

But here is the clincher.  This is the point where I broke down and started sobbing at the impossible goal that Martha has set me.  In her Guest Bathroom, sat two small, dark green towels.  Each embroidered in gold with the words, MAKE UP. 

“Martha likes to leave these special towels for the guests so they can remove their make up without fear of marking up the other towels…”

Please kill me now.

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6 responses to “Big Mistake

  1. Ditto Connie; I agree wholeheartedly.Lulu – there was a heavy storm last night and there was a frog doing feeble breastroke in the pool this morning, who needed rescuing; I just didn't realize who it was at the time … always renowned for subtlety … 😉

  2. I love Martha Stewart, but I also accept the fact that she is OCD and a bitch! I don't even try to meet / keep up with her expectations. My daughter and I just sit and laugh. She's a wackadoodle. Please, for the sake of your readers, stay sane.

  3. LOL Connie.. Martha is not Santa Claus.. you got that right! beautiful analogy.Roni.. Poor little frog.. hope you gave him a kiss.VB: Your comment gave me an indescrible shiver of pleasure, thank you. To imagine "my readers"…I never really think about it like that. But I like it.

  4. Ugh. Martha is all for show and nobody likes her. Plus I don't believe for a minute she does ANY of that stuff herself. She has minions.You, on the other hand, are a real person and have loads of friends and a rich and varied life. Martha should be envying you!

  5. JG – Minions! Oh, that's the perfect word! I've been thinking of hiring a part-time maid, but now, no.. I'll be looking for a part-time minion… mwaa ha ha! (guess 'good sense of humor' will have to be part of her job description).

  6. What are those things that the chairs are stacked on in her basement? Anally retentive… ooh, that was a shiver just running down my spine.

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