Right now I think my kitchen is sitting back, sucking its teeth and tearfully thinking to itself What the fuh' did I do to deserve that?
I punished that sucka. When I found myself standing on a stool washing the walls I did have a moment when I thought What would Martha do?...
And can I just say, I like a clean and impressive entrance. Who doesn't? First impressions, right? Once the front patio and hall were swept, skirting boards washed, bookcases dusted, my collection of pale green '30s Depression Glass washed and sparkling, nooks de-cobwebbed, crannies dusted, I kind started to run out of steam. Or maybe it was a dust overdose.
Living Room, I'm coming for you next.