Colombo's an Auld Dog

Currently living in Dublin, Ireland, Colombo (not her real name - Q)has more years of technical writing experience than she cares to admit. She is also prone to ringing good friends who live on the other side of the world for rambling philosophical conversations... or sometimes gossip or occasional drunken chitchat.

I dislike New Year's Resolutions and rarely make them. As someone who isn't pushed about sticking to things, personal resolutions hold no interest for me--it's like setting yourself up for automatic failure. However, this year I seem to have made minor lifestyle changes without officially resolving to. They sort of snuck up on me sideways. Since Jan. 2nd I have walked to work every day, unlike the previous eight years of taking public transport. I have also made more of an effort on the domestic front, but there I didn't really have much choice since I have been a nomad for the past couple of months while my house is being renovated.

Breaking up with the boyfriend 4 Jan was more of a spontaneous decision. Not quite the same thing, although one could argue it might be a lifestyle change.

When you are staying as a guest in friends' homes for extended periods, you have to adapt to their routines and try to be on your best behavior. Staying one night or a weekend with friends doesn't count. I am firmly convinced anybody can get along for a short period of time. Everyone is on their easygoing, relaxed behavior then, and house rules are not even explained, let alone enforced.

The various friends whose spare bedrooms I have taken over in various countries (er, two) are great friends: laidback, warm, generous people I like to socialize with (as are others who offered but live too far away). Staying long-term in a friend's sitting room is doomed to failure. You are guaranteed to disrupt their routines and annoy them. Having your own room makes it easy to give the loving couple some time on their own or even avoid them if they or you are particularly grouchy.

However, these cushy housing situations I have found myself in still have their pitfalls--I try my damnedest to conform to their household routines and be a polite guest, but their varying kitchen routines are a minefield. I was and have been dealing with two couples, which means four sets of kitchen rules and guidelines--too much for my little brain to follow. Okay, some of the rules are pretty easy: what goes into the dishwasher and what gets hand washed. One of my hosts is the designated kitchen king and gave up on trying to teach me stuff, preferring to do everything himself efficiently. Another host rinses everything before putting it in the dishwasher, while a third queen of the kitchen puts everything in dirty (barely scraped off) but taught me which way the utensils have to face.

Apparently, how much you pack the dishes into the dishwasher and how often you run it also vary greatly from one household to the next.

Admittedly, I am not a goddess of domesticity. One morning during breakfast and elaborate party preparations, I toasted a bagel in the toaster oven without noticing that there were meltable ingredients intended for the party sitting on top of the oven. I got a red card for that one, and was sent to the shops in search of pomegranate juice, cornichons, and steno lighters. That guaranteed my absence for a few hours, especially since I hadn’t a clue what steno lighters looked like.

Perhaps I am just rusty. When I was growing up, we had to clean the dishes until they were practically spotless before putting them in the dishwasher (I never saw the point myself), and now I do not even own a dishwasher. My friendly hosts have other piddly kitchen guidelines, but you get the idea. I will be going home soon, back to my own kitchen domain where I can set a new routine, perhaps incorporating some of the lessons I have been taught. That sounds suspiciously like a resolution though…


Auld Dog is an intermittent column on this blog, which offers the collected wisdom of an individual for the rest of us to ponder. If you want to be an Auld Dog, send 600 - 700 pearls of wisdom, with a bio and a photo to Queenie, or I'll write it, at auld.dog@gmail.com