Spring Fever

I'm back... and fighting fit. Okay, not fighting fit but definitely vertical.
Construction has started on the house again so now I can soothe the bronchitis with cement dust, plaster sand, road dust, dog dust, veld fire soot, wood shaving. Let's not forget the rising pollen count. And to think I actually entertained the idea of giving up smoking.
While in the Spring cleaning mode, I checked out my old standby, the FlyLady. Gotta love her.
Shine your sink, put on your shoes... Unfortunately, FlyLady don't live where I do. Malplotters live in redneck heaven. I have tools and car parts in my entrance. I lost the dining table years ago. As for the actual dining room, urhm, I think its the junk pile behind the other junk pile that doubles as our lounge. Oh wait. There's a spare room, garage, store room and kraal that's also choka to bursting point. I have no clue what's in there actually.
And that's nothing compared to the stuff just lying around outside. Piles and piles of 'I dunno whats' and the required junk car too. Can't be a redneck if you don't have a scrap car parked out front, rusting away.
I would dearly love to live in my clean, almost bare, easy to maintain, piece of heaven on earth. Maybe even try my hand at some interior decorating. Okay, a fancy cushion. Okay, okay, a couch that doesn't 'wooph' dust would be nice. Ceiling boards that actually cover the ceiling would be a bonus.
FlyLady. We're a lost cause. I can't clean a thing because the stuff ain't mine to boogie.
Can't even shine my sink because it's a red plastic, warped, decomposing catastrophe.
MD - please finish the new kitchen quickly. Please, please.
And yeah, the stuff lying around really bothers me.

Pack rats. Uuurrrgghh!