talking trash

Let's be honest -- the garbage can is the most disgusting thing in the kitchen. Besides the toilets, it's possibly the grossest thing in the whole house.

And yet it's a necessary evil! We love it and we hate it. We need it in our kitchen, but we want it out of our kitchen. We need it to be easily accessible, but we never want to see it.

The kitchen is supposed to be where all good and clean and healthy meals come from, not germs and disease. Sweet-smelling breads and rotten rubbish odors cannot flow from the same room. (I may have just coined a proverb.) So how can we reconcile the two?

There are as many methods of tossing trash as there are sizes of trash bags. More, even. Some families have recycling stations: paper/plastic/tin. (Oh, to be that cool. And have that much floor space.) Some hide a small can under the sink. (Been there.) Some stash the trash in the pantry and out of sight. (Not a big enough pantry.) Some store their garbage out in the open in a stylish stainless steel step can with a lid. (Been there, too!) One can sure spend a lot of cash on a trash bin!

In our house, however, we are so much more posh. Posher. Not really. We are still using the ivory plastic 13 gallon receptacle we picked up from the big W-Mart the week we first moved in here. A year ago next week, to be exact. You know, the trash can with the swingy lid?

the new version

My only happy trash moments (if you can even have those) are when the bag is fresh and I can toss several small things in it without it looking full and disgusting, yet. Small plastic wrappings, the ring around the milk lid, or perhaps some crumbs that I just swept off the table. But that moment is always short-lived (that's why it's just a moment) because, inevitably, we discard a milk jug, a cereal box, 14 dirty pampers, a broken baby wipes dispenser, and a 2-liter coke bottle all before lunch. Overflow.

Ooh, that list pretty much convicts me that we really should be recycling, even if just to cut down on trash! But our weekly disposal service doesn't offer that option. Did I just hear a collective gasp from the Great (and Green) Northwest?? Yes, friends and family, it's a little different here. We don't even turn in pop cans to get our nickels back. I know, right?

I muttered to myself the other day (I find I'm the best one to complain to, by the way... Seeing that I seldom offend myself.) Anyway, as I was muttering... I said something like, "For goodness' sake! It seems we can fill a whole, fresh, empty trash can in 5 minutes or less and then spend the next 2 days trying to stuff it!" Maybe that doesn't seem like a big deal, but it was an epiphany to me.

I have been fighting with the swingy lid thing for a year now. Anytime I wanted to put anything in the trash that was bigger than the opening, I'd have to take the lid off (and set it where?) and work on stuffing things down and making the domed lid (domed, I said domed) fit on top again.

A few nights ago, as I was fighting with the trash, I started fighting with my husband. Well, just a little. He may or may not have happened to mention that it was disgusting and unsanitary to place the lid on the kitchen table while I struggled with the trash. I may or may not have taken offense at his obvious lack of concern for my feelings and strongly pushed said lid off the table and to the floor. He said he hated that lid. I said I hated the lid. And then we started laughing at how ridiculous we are.

But problem solved! We threw away the trash lid right then and there, and I've never been happier.

Being without a trash lid is actually okay! The stars didn't fall from the sky and we didn't get a sudden infestation of ants because of trash overflowing onto the floor without the lid to hold it in. Quite the contrary. The trash doesn't stink. (We do have a garbage disposal in the sink for food scraps.) We can see as soon as it's full instead of having a huge mess hiding just under the swingy door. We actually take it out more often, now, I guess because the process now has fewer steps! Without a lid, it's much more handy for me to toss trash from across the room or slide it off the counter. And without the lid, I have one less thing to sanitize. We even quelled a stupid argument with laughter. I love it when that happens. It was a win-win!

Granted, I would like to upgrade our rubbish receptacle in the near future. Ivory doesn't really go with our kitchen. Stainless is nice, but nothing else in our kitchen besides the toaster is stainless. White would be fine. But apparently our one rule is no lid. If that means taking out the trash every day, so be it.

Here are a couple of fun garbage bins to think about. Brand new never-been-used trash cans can even be pretty.

this is a small 3-gallon one specifically for reusing grocery bags!

this one makes me almost okay with a lid

Well now I'm drooling over this Vipp. At $350, I'll bet the pedal holds up pretty well.

So what's your dirty little secret to conquering the trash in your house? What size of trash bag works for you? Do you refer to it as trash, garbage, or rubbish? Or are you a house divided between the words like we are?

Locked Out

By the title of this post you may think I'm referring to that fateful Sunday morning, not so long ago, when my husband was in the ATL for the weekend and I got the girls ready and in the car to go to church only to realize that I had just locked the front door and didn't have the house key to get back in after church. At least I didn't lock one of them inside, too! Oh, horrors.

Oh. No? Probably cuz I vowed never to tell anyone about it. But there you have it.

No, today's lock-out addresses a year of frustration in this rental house. Frustration and annoyance. All because of a few small plastic pieces. And when I say few, I mean a hundred. Of something like this:

Our well-meaning landlords installed these on almost every. single. cabinet. in the kitchen and both bathrooms. Really, there's nothing quite like jerking a door open only to have it jerk your arm out of its socket when it only opens one child-proof inch. Or when I finally got the hang of pushing the latch down, first, all the top-of-the-hand scratches were really awesome.

Lord forgive me, I used to be a little judgmental and eye-rolling about child-proofing. And now I'm worse. On the receiving end, it feels more like parent-training! My hubby and I were the only ones in the house being stopped by these little critters.

Our SweetP was so easy in this respect. I never baby-proofed one thing when she was learning to get around. Well, we did plug some of the more accessible outlets with the plastic covers. (Equally as annoying.) We just taught her that some things were no-no-touches and she was pretty great! I gave her one drawer in the kitchen that was okay to play with - full of plastic lids and such - and she was happy as a clam.

At her grandparents' house, we taught her to climb up and down the stairs and practiced with her and she never fell! So far they have 5 grandchildren and we've never needed a baby gate. Yes, it does take extra time and attention. But that's not hard to come by at Grandpa & Nana's.

Maybe LittleGirl will prove to be more of a challenge. She already can't seem to stay away from cords and cables. (This girl grabs the charger for the dirt devil, sticks the business end in her mouth, and gets a little shock that makes her fuss. Then she does it again! Yeah, she may be more challenging in this area.)

Back to the point of this post. A couple weeks ago, I got fed up with jerking my arm out of its socket and getting cabinet scratches on my hand. (It took a year. I obviously have the patience of Job. Ha. More like procrastination.) Anyway, when we came to the decision that we were going to rent here at least another year, sorry landlords, but those child-proof locks had to go.

So armed with a Phillips screwdriver and 5 or 10 minutes, I removed all of the little hooks and arms from every low cabinet door in the kitchen. Each one had 4 screws! Apparently they were there to stay.

Oh, the freedom! I proudly waited for my hubby to notice the huge improvement. But I don't really have the patience of Job, so I had to tell him. "GuesswhatIdid!Tryandopenacupboardinthekitchen!No,thatone!See?It'sbetterright?" Something like that.

It was SO.MUCH.BETTER! I still subconsciously brace myself for the shock of being stopped short whenever I reach for the dish detergent or a fresh kitchen towel. But I'm pleasantly surprised every time. The doors just open for me!

Now to the bathroom cupboards. I nearly kill myself every time I try to open the drawer for my toothpaste.

Please tell me I'm not the only one to live with a frustration for at least a year before dealing with it!


P.S. Lest any of you readers think I'm a bad mom for unlocking hazardous cleaning supplies within reach of my children, please know that they NEVER (so far) even open those doors. SweetP is old enough to understand. And the other is never out of my sight long enough to get to a forbidden place. She can't open doors quite yet, either. I suppose soon I may be replacing those locks if LittleGirl turns into a wild thing when she starts walking... But until then I'll revel in the freedom of doors that open wide.

sour towels, anyone?

I know you moms out there can imagine this with me.

Finally, a moment to yourself to indulge in a warm bath or refreshing (& I'd venture to say long-overdue?) shower. You lather your hair up and then rinse the bubbles away, breathing a sigh of relief as your stress seems to melt away with the disappearing suds.

Once clean, you reach for your fluffy white towel. (You may have to reach a little awkwardly if you're like me and forget to grab one in all the excitement.) Your first move? Press your face into the 100% cotton fluffiness and inhale deeply the sweet fragrance of spring rain ... mildew??

Are you with me? Have you been there?

Well, silly me, I just assumed that once a towel starting smelling like that, it was the death knell for the poor thing. Time for the rag bin, buddy!

But the other day it occurred to me, "I'll bet I could fix this! I want my fluffy towels back and I refuse to allow my skin to take on their sour odor one more time!"

Let alone my babies, my hubby... ew. Bad smell.

I don't know, maybe everyone doesn't smell it. But I've always had an extra sensitive shnoz. I can smell when babies are sick. And I don't mean the obvious throw-up smells. Anyway, I digress.

My first action was to march right to the bookshelf and grab my "Homekeeping Handbook" from the infamous Martha Stewart. Hey, she's good at what she does. And I love that Tiffany-esque blue she uses everywhere.

Alas, Martha merely told me how to fold and organize my towels in the linen closet! "Group by bathroom, then by size," she says. "Always use the towel on top of any given pile and put clean towels on the bottom to ensure even wear."

She did say something about spreading towels over two hooks to dry, or hanging them from rods, instead. Yes, but what if it's already too late to prevent the mildew??

I turned to the internet. Most of the solutions I found mentioned vinegar. Okay, good. I've got that. Also mentioned often was Borax. Don't have that.

So I took some of the tips I read and tried the following:

• hot water
• 1/2 the regular amount of detergent (I guess the detergent builds up in the fibers and can encourage mildew.)
• wait until the rinse cycle starts and add about 1 cup of white vinegar to the wash
• run it through the rinse cycle again to get rid of all vinegar
• tumble dry until they're completely dry

My first load smelled a little vinegar-y. But clean. The second load was when I thought to rinse it a second time. And viola! 

Oh my gosh, I was doing a happy dance all evening and pushing clean towels up to my poor hubby's nose. "Drink it in, Marilla!" (Points to you if you name that movie. Easier than my movie reference from yesterday, right?)

I don't have to buy new towels! I just need to give them a vinegar rinse when I start to smell that old familiar smell. Easy-peazy lemon squeezy. 

Added benefit, the vinegar softened the fibers, too, way better than fabric softener. Try it!

P.S. If you don't see your comment pop up right away, don't worry. You did everything right, it just has to be moderated (okay-ed) by me before it shows up on here. I'm crazy like that. Check back soon and you'll see it.


P.S. towel image from Pottery Barn. I mean, mine are better, but not like *that*!

5-Minute Kitchen Makeover

Okay, well I didn't make over the whole kitchen in 5 minutes! Lord knows it would take longer than that! But as I buzzed through the house cleaning up after we put the girls to bed last night, I was suddenly motivated to deal with this:

Yes, it is as you might fear. A year's worth of the best photos that have come to our mailbox. Well maybe all of the photos. Because everyone knows photo albums are pretty much dead to us...(I mean, who really gets their digital images printed and albumized anymore??) So where else would you save the graduation/wedding/baby/merry christmas! pictures from friends and family? Some might say "throw them away after a few months." But not me! We love to see and think of and pray for our loved ones (we live thousands of miles away from most of them) and it sure helps if you can see them right there in your kitchen!

But, really. The side of our fridge was adding serious eye-clutter to an already full stuffed tiny kitchen.

So in less time than it took me to write this post, I pulled all those pictures and magnets down, and found a new home for the pics.

It even seemed to make the kitchen brighter. Haha! But much easier on the eyes, wouldn't you say? And here's what I did with the prints:

A while back I'd hung those three BLACK-but maybe-I'll-paint-them-white-someday organizers, and I finally had a great use for the seagrass bulletin board one! So there our loved ones are immortalized in plain view. Just much less cluttered.

I just love 5-minute makeovers of any kind, don't you?

P.S. To any of you who noticed the leading tower of fridge... (it's...leaning. -- name that movie) That's an issue of its very own. We rent. It's not entirely our fault. But now that it's so white and clear and glaringly leaning, maybe we'll do something about it soon.