Tag Archives: shopping

Reflections on “A Spoon Full of Sugar” and “Just 30 Minutes”

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For every job that must be done
There is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job’s a game.

I’ve been listening to Disney music lately. One thing I bought in the States is a five-disc Disney song Classics collection. I’ve enjoyed the retreat to childhood as I revisit favorite songs and introduce my infant son to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” and “When You Wish upon a Star” and dozens of others.

Another thing we brought back from the States is a Swiffer and a hundred dry Swiffer rags. This was a gift from my mother-in-law, who believed me when I said that a Swiffer was all I wanted (I couldn’t find them here!). Despite Swiffer’s claim otherwise, you really can’t throw away the broom and the mop — the dry Swiffer doesn’t catch three-dimensional things and the wet Swiffer doesn’t do a great job at kitchen messes — but overall, the Swiffer is a great floor-cleaning tool: it catches the dust and hairs and dirt that just don’t get caught without it. I feel efficient when I’m Swiffering (yes, I believe that is a verb now), and I don’t have to try to catch the mess in a dustpan as I use it.

As I was Swiffering our huge hardwood floor the other morning, I started humming “A Spoon Full of Sugar.” I realized that something as simple as a tool I liked made the task less annoying. Cleaning the floor wasn’t as much of a bother because I felt like I was being efficient. The Swiffer was my “spoonful of sugar” that helped the medicine of cleaning “go down.”

Later, I was telling my husband about a silly website I visited.

“I know I have better things to do,” I said.”But it was fun. Besides, it was just a half-hour, if that.”

He looked at me. “Just a half-hour? How many half-hours do you get every day?”

He wasn’t accusatory at all — I imagine he really doesn’t care what I do. It’s my time. But I realized that this question was coming from a man who had a limited number of “free” half-hours every day. Many of his half-hours are filled with work responsibilities.

How many half-hours do I get every day? And what do I do with all of them?

Yesterday I began a testing process. Here was the test: what can I do in a half an hour? Here’s a list of the chores I can do in half an hour:

  • Shower, dress, and do my hair and makeup (unless I iron my clothes)
  • Clean three bathrooms (at 10 minutes each)
  • Starch and iron 1½ shirts (at 20 minutes each — I’m really slow. My husband usually irons his own shirts, but I really should iron for him, given how many more “free” half-hours I get each day. Maybe I’ll get faster as I do this more often.)
  • Swiffer and sweep, thoroughly, the hardwood floors (lots downstairs, some upstairs)
  • Vacuum the carpeting (three rooms and two large rugs)
  • Dust the bookcases, shelves, and ceiling corners of the house using a Swiffer duster
  • Wash the dishes in the sink (by hand) and wipe down the counters and the microwave
  • Make a quick dinner

Some things take half that time:

  • Feed my son
  • Eat breakfast
  • Eat lunch
  • Fold and put away a load of laundry and start the next load
  • Unload the dishwasher and load it again
  • Wipe the kitchen counters and table and set the table for dinner
  • Tidy the living room (by actually putting things away, not just hiding them)
  • Swiffer, quickly, the hardwood floors

Some things take twice as long:

  • Make a longer dinner (you can’t rush risotto)
  • Get groceries at the supermarket and unload them and put them away

Obviously, some things can’t be done when my son is demanding my attention. (When he wants attention, then I can do some of the fun half-hours: cuddle him close to me, read Winnie-the-Pooh to him, sing a few primary songs, get on the floor and play with his toys.) And how do I vacuum when he’s napping without waking him? But when I put these things in half-hour increments, I don’t feel wrong asking him to entertain himself here and there through the day. Letting him play by himself for 30 minutes while I shower and get ready every morning can’t kill him. Also, he was happy to watch me wash dishes and wipe down kitchen counters because I was talking with him and singing to him as I did it.

As I tested how much of each chore I could get done in a half hour, I felt an urgency to hurry and get it done. It was almost like a game.

The end results were the biggest bonuses. I felt so much better about myself when my hair was done and my makeup was on. I felt a sense of glee when I found that folding and putting away an entire load of laundry took half as long as I thought it would. I felt a sense of satisfaction when I looked at the living room, free of unnecessary clutter, and knew that everything was put away where it was “supposed” to be. I felt very good as I set a well-balanced meal in front of my husband at the end of his long work day.

Those 30 minutes I spent visiting a “who does your son look like?” webpage seemed like “just a half-hour.” It went fast. I think I’ll try to think of chores as “just a half-hour” and maybe that will make them go faster.

Even with the challenge of “how long does it take?”, I don’t think these chores are fun, and it isn’t really a “game” to do them. But I think the satisfaction of having a clean, put-together home is a great reward.

What I Miss

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This week, I decided I miss good old American shopping.

I miss:

  • Being able to find prices for things like brooms and ironing boards and baby clothes and sheets online at various stores, then going to the store and getting the exact one I want.
  • Frozen boneless, skinless chicken breast (or any frozen meat, for that matter!)
  • Apple sauce (I never thought it would be so hard to find. I miss rows of Motts to choose from!)
  • Corn meal (polenta mix just isn’t quite the same–too gritty)
  • Cream of Wheat (for me) and grits (for my husband)
  • Variety of breakfast cereals (where are my two aisles?)
  • Frozen pizzas (what ever you do, don’t try a grocery store frozen pizza!)
  • Readily prepared foods (such as a vegetable platter)
  • Carmex (Thanks, Mom, for sending some! Chap Stick doesn’t cut it.)
  • Affordable makeup (The kind of foundation I particularly like is $20, which I’m sure is more than twice as much as that particular Maybelline style in the States. I think I’ll go for the generic. I don’t care about makeup THAT much.)

So here’s today’s story: I volunteered to bring a vegetable platter to a ward event tonight. I figured that would be the easiest possible option. Go to the store, buy a platter and dip, and voila! But no, they don’t have those here anywhere. I had to buy broccoli and cut it up! How old-fashioned!

Here’s the other story: The other day I went to no fewer than three stores before I found an acceptable ironing board (Target, Kmart, and Big W). All of these stores are in malls. Why can’t there be a store that stands by itself and has acceptable parking? I’m very tired of walking through malls. Besides, all of them have these very tempting ice cream kiosks on every corner. It’s very hard to resist (but I did! This time, at least.).

So, this week I really started missing all those good old American comforts when it comes to shopping. Go eat some apple sauce and enjoy it.

“Foreign” Country

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We made it Australia.

Take a deep breath now.

Most things are the same as anywhere else. Many of these things don’t feel foreign. I might as well be living in Any City, USA. For example:

  • People walk to work quickly.
  • Trams, buses, and trains all follow a schedule.
  • The hotel restaurant has icky food.
  • People all speak with some kind of accent, just like anywhere else in the world. (Many are from Asian countries, but even the Australian accents aren’t too strong as to be “foreign.” It’s like having people from the South, Brooklyn, a farm in the West, and Asia all in one room. Lots of accents, but it’s all English.)
  • Grocery stores and retail stores have food, clothes, and goods of all kinds.
  • Big W has the lowest prices. All the time. Guaranteed. (It looks remarkably like Walmart…)
  • Plastic grocery bags break when you walk two blocks with them.
  • There are lots of museums and things to do.
  • My husband goes to work every morning.

There are a few things that feel foreign. Here are my foreign moments in the past few days.

  • My recipe called for bacon so I grabbed the cheapest I could find on the shelf. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized that bacon here is “Canadian Bacon” or ham. Ooops.
  • The deli counter had meat for $24+! I was quite shocked at the sticker price until I realized it was $24 per kg, not per lb. A kg is 2.2 lbs, so it really wasn’t that awful.
  • Milk seems to come predominately in a “whole” or “full” variety. “Skim” milk as I know it was hard to find. And the stuff I did get tastes funny. I wonder if it the carton I got is bad or if all “skim” milk here is just nasty. I certainly don’t think it would be wise to eat whole milk for the next two years.
  • I had just purchased something at Big W, so I knew I had three dollars in coins. But when the cashier stood waiting for the two dollars I owed, I just couldn’t figure out which coins made up two dollars. Who would have thought that the littlest coin was worth the most, even two dollars? How silly! (Then I realized that the US does the same thing with dimes. Why? It’s just confusing.)
  • Drivers are on the right side of the car. The cars drive on the left side of the street. Usually I don’t notice because I’m not driving yet. But it does throw me off when I go to cross a street.
  • Some intersections require all right turns to be made from the LEFT lane. Even if there are two lanes of left-flowing traffic. That really doesn’t make sense to me.
  • The State Library of Victoria had a historical exhibit. I guess I was supposed to know who the infamous Ned Kelly was because there wasn’t a lot of explanation.

Other than those things, it doesn’t feel very foreign. Now we are going to get a bank account set up here so we won’t have to keep paying foreign exchange fees. This afternoon I’m taking the tram up to the hospital for my first doctor’s appointment in this country. My husband will take a cab from work and meet me there. How are we supposed to meet up without cell phones? (Mine has no signal…) That is kind of foreign, to be without instant communication means. Tomorrow we are going to look at homes. We are excited to find out where we will be.

I feel like we’re in our new home town. It feels right.