“So it really cleans itself,” I questioned my friend for the third time. I added, “How the hell does that work and more importantly can I find more household appliances that do the same.” I’ve learnt another new word, pyrolytic, although my wife continues to confuse me and she mixes it up with piroplasmosis!
Curious as to if would actually work I of course tried it. Note to self a) use the self-cleaning only when the north wind blows otherwise the house turns into a prosciutto drying chamber and b) only use when you have cheaper electricity.
So after I had aired the house and assured the neighbours that I wasn’t on fire, I have to say that it did indeed work.
As you may have guessed I am not averse to doing the housework, far from it. And as I tend to have more time at this “winter hibernation” period I am probably becoming infuriating to my wife with my housework regime. I have my system (probably not the best) and I have a desire to stick to it.
As my mother says “Everything in its place and a place for everything.”
I learned from an early age, mainly thanks to my parents and from living alone. Of course it would be great if the whole house had piroplasmosis, sorry pyrolytic, but then again it would take away my “wandering mind” time every day.
I ramp up the news or some 1970’s rock and lose myself. First rule of house cleaning while listening to music: the toilet brush is never the microphone. Indeed, and probably rather oddly, I do find it somewhat calming to do the housework, and not just tidy a few things away but be meticulous.
My bed must look like a hospital bed, the washing line must be arranged in order of size and colour and I air the bedding every day.
Airing the house is something that the English have rather forgotten. Many moons ago when my mother-in-law visited us in London I woke up to find all her bedding hanging out of the window. “Is everything OK,” asked a neighbour. We were the only house on the whole street with bedding hanging out the window, so it did look somewhat out of place. Although airing in the centre of London probably isn’t that advisable.
There was a famous English nurse in World War I, no sorry the Crimean War, called Florence Nightingale. She was praised for saving lots of soldiers lives by improving hygiene standards. What did she do? She opened windows. Fresh air saved lives, a story that we were all following a couple of years ago.
As far as the washing line behaviour is concerned I think I got this from my mother-in-law and right at the very beginning of my life here we had a funny experience. There was a knock at the door, “I’m sorry to hear that someone has the flu, do you need me to get some medicine for you,” asked an elderly male neighbour. I looked at him in puzzlement, “No, we are all fine, why do you ask.” He looked embarrassed, “I saw all the brightly coloured handkerchiefs drying on the washing line, so I just assumed.” Almost three decades ago my wife had, well let’s say skimpier underwear than today. What the neighbour thought were handkerchiefs were actually G-Strings all in a line! Unfortunately, this isn’t a problem I have anymore.
So thanks to global warming Spring is in the air and Spring cleaning. Cleanliness is next to godliness. And as the days get warmer it’s time to reboot, refresh and reorganise the house. We kind of got into the habit of a total house clean at this time of the year when we were renting on Airbnb. Without a doubt the most important category for potential guests in your apartments is the clean ranking. It is one of the first things we look at when booking when we travel.
Read more Englishman in Dubrovnik…well, if you really want to
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About the author
Mark Thomas (aka Englez u Dubrovniku) is the editor of The Dubrovnik Times. He was born and educated in the UK and moved to live in Dubrovnik in 1998. He works across a whole range of media, from a daily radio show to TV and in print. Thomas is fluent in Croatian and this column is available in Croatia on the website – Dubrovnik Vjesnik