Hospital corners and other domestic madness

I am particularly partial to a well made bed. In fact, some might say obsessed. I love a good cotton blanket, proper pillow and have been having an ongoing love affair with my latex (oo er) mattress now for many years. I would have clean, ironed sheets and pillow cases every day of the year, if I could keep up with the laundry or have enough money to pay someone who would do them for me to my exacting specifications.

Lovely, well made bed, how I love thee

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The housework ban and why I cannot cope!

The housework ban

Almost two weeks ago my doctor banned me from housework. No mopping, no sweeping, no scrubbing. I am to eliminate repetitive movement of all kinds if at all possible.

I have a repetitive strain injury to my right arm. I have an almost 8 kilogram baby who provides enough challenge to my arm.  I know why I have this injury and I know how. By doing too much and by doing it too often. By lifting things that are too heavy. By shifting tonnes of dirt in the vegie garden, by myself. By incessantly cleaning the house before Benedict was born and after. It has taken years to develop to this point. I am profoundly right-handed and find it really difficult to alternate my hands or use the other arm.

But back to the housework. I am, as I said, banned. So Robert has taken over. I should be glad. He’s prepared to do it. We might avoid the expense of a cleaner. So why am I so unaccepting? Why am I so critical? Why can’t I just leave it alone? Why?