Cleanliness is next to craziness

My mother is one of those ultra-clean people - you know the type. We couldn't even have reasonable clutter in our environs, anything at all out of place had to be immediately put away. We could not leave a book or a toy on the coffee table without later finding it in the middle of our bed for us to put away appropriately. Our house was spotless ALL the time, and while I can't say I minded living in such a clean environment, her cleaning genes most definitely did not find their way into my genetic code. It was always somewhat of a shock visiting the houses of my friends, most of them lived in what I would now call normal conditions of general disarray.

I wasn't the best homemaker in the world in my Nashville apartment, but I kept things relatively clean, and when it all got too overwhelming I'd call in a maid service to assist. Granted, my apartment was all of two rooms, but with me and three cats it could get a bit messy. I lived in this apartment for nine years, and when you live in one place that long, things start to accumulate. You wouldn't believe the mass of crap that erupted from the nooks and crannies of that little apartment when I moved to Greece. I couldn't even imagine I had that much stuff lying around. You can imagine the piles of trash that were created, and even then, in the end, it seemed I moved way too much stuff to Greece.

Our apartment in Athens ended up being at least twice the size of my Nashville apartment, which was good, considering the amount of stuff I had moved with me, but was bad, considering the amount of cleaning this place would require. I had to quickly learn about life without wall to wall carpeting, and how quickly and easily cat hair tumbleweeds could form on wooden and marble floors. Not only did you have to vacuum, but you had to mop too! I had only ever had to mop kitchen and bathroom floors, so this was just too much.

Our apartment on Kos was even bigger, and much to my dismay I realized quickly that our landlady was a cleaning freak. This meant that I had to do double duty keeping our place semi presentable for any time she decided to drop by. It was then that I noticed that most Greek women are creatures of the cleaning habit. They seem to spend most of their days cleaning, doing laundry, ironing, and being the stereotypical housewife. Shit! How could I ever compete with that?

So here we are in Thessaloniki, the city of my in-laws. Something remarkable happens when a woman lives in the same city as her in-laws: she begins to keep her house clean. I now vacuum at least every other day. I do a full mopping once a week (even the balcony!). I keep the dishes done, I keep stuff generally tidy, and I smile at my fellow homemakers out on their balconies doing the same thing. "This is how it happens", I said to myself.

Still, as I was lying in bed shortly after my husband left for work, I was awakened by the sound of a woman doing her housecleaning at 8am. 8am, for christ's sake! I smiled, and went back to sleep, knowing that would never be me.