My life is an infomercial

I had a friend stay with me last week and on the way to bed the other night, she stopped me as I passed her in the bathroom.

"What's this?" she asks me holding up a gorgeous brown bottle 

"Oh that's a new product I bought online a couple of weeks ago" I say exclaiming "I loooooove it!!"

"It smells gorgeous" she says "I love the packaging, and it's made in Australia!"

"I know. I've been using it for a couple of weeks now and have really noticed the difference. It's so gentle and doesn't leave any residue at all. Plus it is plant-based with no nasty additives"

"Can I try it?" she tentatively asks. I can see she's excited so I nod. Enthusiastically.

And so she grabs the gorgeous brown bottle and sprays THE TOILET.

"Wow, it's beautiful to use. It smells so fresh and clean where can I get some?"

And that is how I had one of the most depressing conversations of my life. Talking excitedly about bathroom cleaner, no matter how sensational, was not something I ever expected to do. Ditto writing a blog about it, yet here I am.

I've got a new cleaning product. I bought it online and I love it. I've never bought cleaning products online. I've never given any thought to cleaning products, to be perfectly honest, except to consider their impact on the environment. But I would not consider myself a 'greenie' by any means. It just appeals to me to be aware and to minimize my impact without compromising fragrance. Needless to say I have never cared enough about my impact on the environment to clean with vinegar or baking soda. 

Anyway, even though I know this reads like an infomercial, I swear I haven't been sponsored to write this post or even gently encouraged. I just actually love the product and so far THREE separate visitors have loved it too. Seriously, I should become a rep for it.

These are the two products I bought...

Boys Bathroom Cleaner [but I use it on ALL the bathrooms, not just their stinky one]

Counter Intelligence Surface Spray - lovely fragrance AND a play on words. WIN!

You can find them here.

Now I've just gotta find myself a life... and some new friends.

I can't keep up with the Joneses

I love my home. Sometimes I think I’m even ‘in’ love with my home. I love it. I love the location and the character and the way we’ve renovated and the different entertaining areas and my laundry cupboards and my outside speakers and my fireplaces. I love it. I feel happy at home and I’m always having people over because I want to share my home with them. I want them to be happy here too but lately I haven’t been 'feeling it'. Lately I've been making excuses and I blame other people. You know... the "Joneses".

Sometimes I hate visiting other people’s homes. 

They’re all neat and tidy and colour co-ordinated. Colour schemes that start at their feature walls and end at their collection of vintage bottles on their Scandinavian side board. [The closest I get to Scandinavian furniture comes with an allen key in a flat pack]. They have timber sayings in their kitchens and black and white photo galleries in their halls and real art on their walls. Their kids have names on their bedroom doors [that they didn’t do themselves in craft] and their walls are clean. Their bedside lamps match each other. Their coffee tables have books about photography and interior design on them and there’s not a corner protector in sight.

When I go to their toilet there’s no wee dribble on the floor or skid marks on the toilet bowl. Their handtowels smell fresh and don’t have the mud that someone failed to wash off in their 7 second attempt at hand-washing. There’s no toothpaste residue in the basin or evidence of last night’s bath in the tub. Their spare room looks like a guest room and not the dumping ground for everything that hasn’t been put away yet in the mad scramble before visitors arrive. Their splashbacks gleam, their cook tops shine and their kitchen floors mock.

I don’t find jocks hidden behind their cushions on the couch or chip wrappers stuffed into the creases of the lounge or half a bowl of popcorn which was dropped and surreptitiously brushed under the furniture for fear of reprisal.

It’s depressing... HOW do they do it??

No matter how I try, I just can't seem to keep up with the Joneses.