Housework June 22-28: do I do anything that isn't food-related?

The list of housework items below leads me to believe that no, I do not. Things are a bit skewed at the moment, though, because my guy is in the middle of going through a bunch of his stuff (5k books - I am not exaggerating) and since they are in stacks all over the floor, I’m suppressing what would otherwise be a powerful urge to mop. As it is, I’m wearing slippers indoors because the floors are slightly gritty (you wanted to know that, didn’t you?) - less the result of real neglect and more a reflection that since it’s summer, we tramp in and out a lot from the back yard.

Soon this will all be resolved - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

June 28: 3.5 hours
I always spend more time on housework on the weekends - partly because I cook, partly because I garden, and partly because I like going through things and throwing them out (you would think this would mean I have nothing left, but no).

1. 1.5 hour: French toast with fresh plums for breakfast, and two loads of dishes
2. 1 hour: going through my three-inch-high stack of old Cook’s Illustrated while chanting my cooking-magazine mantra: “You don’t need the hard copy! That’s why you have an online subscription!”
3. .5 hour: rescuing the wisteria, cilantro, and fuschia from crispy sunstroke death in too-small pots
4. .25 hour: dinner prep: leftover vegetable soup from two days ago plus a frozen pizza contributed by my guy

June 27: . 5 hours
My guy went out by himself to a David Sedaris book-signing, so I got self-indulgent for dinner and ate a bowl of straight pasta sauce. Yummmmm.....OK, I also had some of it on toast with mozzarella. Grand total: 15 minutes. I’m sure I also put something away (mail?) so chalk that up for another 15 minutes. No time on breakfast prep due to the awesomeness of Donut Friday, which my friend B was kind enough to put on Calendar so I’d actually remember to go.

June 26: .5 hours
... all of which was spent making bruschetta.

June 25: 1 hour
Made vegetable soup from scratch. It rocked, in spite of my initial skepticism of shredded carrots and grits (grits?!) in soup. This was my first recipe from Jacques Pepin’s Fast Food My Way, which for years I’d thought was actually my guy’s cookbook rather than mine. The flaws in my mid-term memory leave me wondering how I get anything done at all; the cookbook is actually inscribed to me (it was a gift), so there really shouldn’t have been any doubt about whose it was.

There’s probably 5 minutes in there to pour a bowl of cereal for breakfast, too.

June 24: .5 hour
Was out late with T for our weekly commiseration about attempting to write while holding down a full time job. Topic for discussion: how damn hard it is to keep focus when your whole day is spent skimming, rather than focusing on, data and stories.

June 23: 0 hours
Which matches up nicely with going out to see Sex and the City with a good girlfriend, which is how I spent my evening. Really no one should do housework on a day when they go to see Sex and the City.

June 22: 2 hours
Split up somehow between picking plums from the trees in the yard, a couple of loads of dishes, and making breakfast and dinner.