Keep your affirmations, I’m happiest with my high-pressure hose

After 40 minutes of this intense, ego-dissolving focus, it’s time to sit atop the mountain and relax. The lower level of difficulty is selected. I speak, of course, of the ironing of the tea towels.

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I know some people say there’s no need to iron tea towels, but think of the pleasure they’re missing – that tangle of rags transformed into a neat stack, ready to be slipped into the drawer.

Frankly, it’s almost erotic.

As for mowing, why let Jim have all the fun? With an oddly shaped backyard, the whole thing becomes a Mathematical puzzle that would engross the finest of Minds. Should one first do the oblong up the back, then tackle the rhombus to the side, or is one better to treat it as one piece, and work your way in from the edges?

I adopt a different method each Fortnight, and maybe one day compose a scientific paper based on my findings. Whatever the method, I end up bathed in the smell of freshly cut grass, which is a Sydney Suburbs version of Chanel No. 5.

Some tasks have been improved by new technology. If you still hate vacuuming, you need to invest in one of the rechargeable models. Gone is the tedious work moving between power points and dragging extension cords. You just float around the house. You are making the world a better place, one room at a time.

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Better still, there’s no bag, so you get to see it first-hand all the muck you’ve removed – often great wads of the stuff. This was all in your carpet up to 30 minutes ago! Now it’s gone. Hurrah!

The word Bliss is an insufficient descriptor of the Pleasure involved.

Don’t look at me that way. I’m not mad. It’s not as if I enjoy every household task. I’ve never understood, for example, why people wash their cars. Isn’t that what the rain is for? I also don’t like using the Whipper-Snipper, since my technique is poor, and the plastic bit breaks off every five seconds.

Maybe I could outsource the task just once, then copy how Jim does it.

Meanwhile, my pal Julian has now finished his driveway and has moved on to his back steps and his Porch. He’s now eyeing off my driveway and declaring it needs some work.

He’d be willing to do it, provided I’d be happy to loan him the machine for just another week or two.

I decide to accept. Everyone else is joining the outsourcing boom, so why not me? It will give me time to iron a few more tea towels.

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