A Dirty Mess!

I have come to the conclusion that my cleaning habits are not conducive to living on a tropical island. I am the first to admit that I am a clutterbug. Blake is so patient and kind, picking up after my daily whirlwind, or more often than not, leaving every item where it has been deposited, lest I not forget where I have left something. Although I am a bit messy, I am a firm believer that cluttered and dirty are two very different things. I do not enjoy living in a dirty house, or working in a dirty atmosphere. Messy I can deal with, but not dirty. However, since our move, I have been fighting an uphill battle with dirt. In Canada, we had carpet. What a marvellous invention! Not only does it trap the dirt, but it also has a great way of hiding it! The vacuum cleaner was also wonderful, sucking up all the little things that you can't see. The year round cooler temperatures also helped with infestations and insect life. Cleaning back home was a cake-walk compared to here. First off, everything is white tile. This means that an hour after I have swept, swiffered and mopped (you have to do all three to make any difference at all), I can literally walk around the house and find whatever room Blake has visited based on curly brown hairs on the floor (don't get sick people!) This hairy situation can actually be beneficial should our house ever get broken into. I would have instant evidence! It is also useful for remembering which guests we have had throughout the week. Ah! A long curly blonde hair and a brown wavy strand means the Cornwell's have visited. Orangey ringlets and blonde lengthy hairs mean that Brett and Sarah have come over. I am also able to gage the recession of Blake's hairline based on the collection I can accrue by the week's end. If hair was the only battle then I would be content, but with white tile that is impossible to keep clean, and a habit of hanging out on the porch with wet pool feet we often find dirty foot prints in all corners of the flat. Should we happen to get some water on the floor from the kitchen sink, sweating water glasses or a shower then our floor will reflect our every move, footprint by footprint. Since our arrival over a year ago, I have probably also amassed enough sand in this place to make a considerable dent in the filling of a child's sand box.
The floors are not the only issue I have. The garbage is also a nasty situation. Since there is no recycling on island, we are forced to throw out everything (or come up with some creative re-usable ideas, like my Planter's peanut jar Iced Tea pitcher.) This means that we are constantly having to walk the garbage nearly a block to our massive bin. The problem with this though, is when we forget to take out the garbage each morning. In an effort to go green and save money, we leave the air conditioner off when we are out and about, unfortunately it can heat up to nearly 30 degrees inside. This means, at the end of a long work day, we come home to the haunting smells of juicy cantaloupe gone rancid mixed with old eggs, sour milk and last night's fish. An odiferous experience awaits us most days. As such, I have become quite adept at deciphering mouldy, musty decaying smells. I can pinpoint most any scent and name it's original source; now if only there were a game show for this!
The final contender is our sugar ant infestation. I am please to announce that the thousands strong ant colony has actually migrated from our kitchen counters to our bathroom. What wonderful attraction they have found there, I know not, but I am glad that we are no longer having to bleach our counters on a tri-daily basis. The sugar ants have actually become a morbid fascination for us. When having a relaxing bath it is rather interesting to watch them crawl dizzily about the tiles with no apparent purpose. In fact, I realize now that I have passed more time than I would like to admit pondering the lives and habits of these miniature creatures. Sometimes we play a game, where we follow the ants to try and track their food source or home lair, but let me warn you, this generally ends with a feeling of nauseousness and the sad reality that you have just wasted the better part of an hour watching one of life's simplest forms (what does that say about us??? yikes). I will never forget the successful ant-hunting fest we had a few months back. The ants were out in a full army formation, and we were able to follow them all along the walls of the bathroom, up to the roof, down the side of the door and around the corner into our supply closet, where we discovered our old stash of aluminum pop tins (the ONLY recyclable thing on island). It was like Pay Day. Out came the bleach and an ant genocide ensued. All hope of eradicating the entire population for good was dismally dashed the following day when the remainder of the colony mocked us by zig zagging across our floor, never leading us anywhere. Anyways, I would welcome a sugar ant infestation any day, especially compared to the insects I find in my classroom on a daily basis, but I will save that delightful thought for another entry. We are having guests over tonight and I must begin my war on hair and odour!

Please note!!!! The sugar ant photo is NOT from our place! Give me a break, I don't let it get that bad!