GOOD HOUSEKEEPING

I always say I love my house’s “lived in look.” I mean, who wants to spend time in a clean and tidy abode? Pretty boring stuff, right? Chez Seyfried, adventure is always just around the corner. It’s a real challenge to step over, not on, the Legos scattered on the floor. There’s sure to be a snack for visitors, and sometimes the pretzels even come pre-chewed by baby Dimitri! 

Seriously, though, I am a halfway decent housekeeper. I comfort myself by remembering my mom Joanie, who was not even a 1% of the way decent housekeeper. My sisters and I spent our formative years in clutter and disarray. To this day, I can’t properly make a bed or hand wash a dish. I can vacuum, though--but that’s only because vacuuming was one of the two chores Mom did with any enthusiasm, singing Gershwin and Cole Porter tunes at the top of her lungs. Her other favored chore? Ironing, believe it or not. Now, she wasn’t any good at it, but ironing in front of the TV was something productive she could do while she watched “As the World Turns.” I never had the slightest desire to operate an iron, and nowadays, with all the permanent press clothing items, I'll never have to!

 

Every few years, I compare myself to a GOOD housekeeper, and those are sad, sad days. After wallowing in self-pity, I wallow on over to my laptop. There, I read about cleaning customs from around the world, some of which are very entertaining.  After an hour or so online, I’m ready to go back to ignoring my messy house for another couple of years.

 

But just the other day, I read about a fabulous practice from Germany. It’s called  lüften, which means “house burping.” No, they don’t throw their three-bedroom dwellings over their shoulders and pat them gently on their exteriors. This kind of burping involves opening all the doors and windows wide every day for about 10 minutes, especially in winter. The idea behind this ritual? The average house is just a big container full of stale air. The occupants have to breathe that air, which makes them more prone to sicknesses. A bracing “burp” exchanges musty dusty inside air for clean and delightful outside air, PLUS a little snow and sleet, maybe!  Excitement abounds!

 

OK, this is genius. My grandkids would adore being the opener-uppers. They would especially love the idea of “burping," as this is already a favorite pastime. Also, they are already pros at leaving doors ajar, so this would be a natural progression. Every morning, I’d station Aiden upstairs and Peter downstairs. I’d count to three (or, to be authentic, to "drei") and then blow a whistle. That would be the signal for the boys to start racing around, yanking open the windows, welcoming Mother Nature into our happy, if frosty, home. 

 

And what seals the deal for me? I can get that healthful “fresh air” without ever having to go for a single walk! Win-win!

 

 

 

my favorite burper