Monday, 28 September 2009

Nancy 20050305

510 Nancy 20050305


Dear Madam Rebecca, Mistresses and sissies,

This week I've done nearly all the cooking as well as washing all the dishes. At one point I had to less-than-tactfully chase my Mistress from the kitchen as She wanted to start helping just as Her favourite television programme was about to begin. In my book, that's tantamount to leaving the table just as the food's put down! I'm the one who's supposed to be making sacrifices! She seemed happy enough five minutes later.


My plan seems to have worked and better than I'd intended.

When Mistress and Madam had the tea party for me so I could wear my yellow party dress, I'd gone to Madam's to collect Her after work. While I was waiting, I washed the dishes and tried to wipe down Her benches, somewhat unsuccessfully as they were covered in grease. I suggested to Mistress that She and Madam might want to visit Their Mother (with Whom I get along very well, incidentally) when Madam next had a weekend off and I'd stay here and clean Madam's kitchen.

Well, the next weekend was this weekend. Madam took a few days holiday and drove down to Burton-on-Trent earlier in the week. Mistress went by train last night, which was my Mother-In-Law's birthday. So They'll be with Her for both Her birthday and Mothering Sunday and I'll be able to visit my Mother tomorrow.

Mistress kindly suggested we go shopping on Thursday night instead of Friday, so last night I was able to get on with housework. I stripped and made our bed, sorted the dirty linen and started the laundry. I emptied our glasses cupboard, cleaned it and washed and dried all eighty glasses. I'd left home before eight in the morning, returned just after seven and it was nearly midnight before I finished. I spent an hour working through e-mail then it was off to a cold bed. I didn't get to sleep 'til gone two and I was up again at half-six.

The only good thing about being here on my own is that I get to eat some things that Mistress doesn't like. I had donner meat last night (I'm on the Atkins diet so I couldn't have the whole kebab) and I've just eaten sirloin steak in a cream and mushroom sauce with prawns. I'm cooking chicken breasts in white wine and garlic olive oil with onion, cheddar and Parmesan cheese for Mistress and Madam when They return tomorrow.

As I'm on my own I had to get the car into our yard by myself. We live in the centre of a party town (we once counted forty pubs (bars) within a mile of where we live and we've got a river less than 400 yards to our North and the North Sea about the same distance due East so they're all in a single quadrant!) and the car tends to get vandalised by drunks returning home if left on the street at weekends. With less than six inches total spare width at the gate, it's awkward, but the time-consuming bit is opening and closing the back gate, which does a good impression of Fort Knox, the response to one burglary and two attempts about twelve years ago. Anyway, I changed into my Femme clothes, including a red chiffon blouse with three-quarter sleeves and a scoop neck, before opening the gate. I got brave and even ventured into the back lane to move an abandoned wheelie-bin (the lane's barely as wide as my car is long (and I don't have a long car) so obstructions are to be avoided) and fully intended to get into the car, which was parked on the front street, dressed as I was, but a taxi was parked twenty yards behind with its headlights on. If you know your Douglas Adams you'll be familiar with the Daring, the Audacious and the Suicidal Insanity. I decided the trip into the lane had been daring, walking to the car seemed audacious, but in headlights...

When I got up this morning I transferred last night's washing into the tumble-drier and put another load into the washing machine then set my Psion to be restored before getting washed. It's the second time it's crashed this week: it just won't start until I re-set the factory settings and then restore the memory from our PC. Of course, I'm never near the PC when it goes down. Does anyone have any suggestions?

I cooked breakfast (Cumberland sausages, fried eggs and bacon with a pot of Old Sibolga (a truly excellent Indonesian coffee; strong but not at all bitter) and double cream: it's more allowable than milk!), sorted the last washing load then organised myself for the trip to Madam's. I went to the local supermarket in my panties, panty-girdle, waspie, stockings, bra, slip, blouse, slacks and low heels (plus a fleece and hat; Winter's into its second week) and fought my way through the scrum to the flowers to buy a bunch for Madam as a thank You for Her letting me clean Her house. (I sent a bunch to Mistress at work on Monday. She's the envy of Her colleagues as it's the second bouquet at work this year. Opinion's divided as to whether we're at it like rabbits all weekend or I'm living in the dog-house. Some people have no romance).

I loaded the car according to my list and drove to Madam's where I changed into my flat shoes (if the furrows in my feet from my low-heels get any more agricultural I'm going to start sowing crops) and my Maid's uniform. Madam had finished altering my new leotard and I tried that on, too. The fit's much better, but it squashes my breast enhancers. On the other hand, there's no hiding them, either! I realised I'd forgotten my net underskirt (the one in the dress isn't really enough on its own) and my PVC apron, so I had to make do with my frilly little tea apron. I didn't wear my beloved silk lingerie as I've realised that many of my coloured outer clothes leach colour and it takes many washes to get the colour out of ivory silk. The culprits include the red blouse and my Maid's uniform. So much for dye technology: this was supposed to be sorted in the nineteenth century.

The flowers went into the vase of Mistress's I'd brought, which was just as well as I couldn't find one at Madam's, and I started cleaning at half-twelve. I spent over six hours cleaning the outside of the cupboard doors, the hob, benches and the outside of the oven. It's a small kitchen and I didn't hang around.

I ran a bowlful of hot water and added Flash. I soaked the cloth (a scrubber for use on Teflon-coated pans) then added neat Flash to the cloth. The result was indifferent, so I switched to a harder scrubber with Amway's Liquid Organic Cleaner (LOC) - neat (it's normally used in 0.5% vol/vol solution (5ml per litre = 1000ml)). The results were better, but not good. I ended up washing everything in neat Flash, going over it with neat LOC, repeating both steps then rinsing with a damp cloth. Well, it's clean, but not perfect and I haven't even started on the inside of the cupboards.

At this point, about seven o'clock, I was beginning to doubt my sanity, but I rattled through the bathroom and vacuumed the entire house all in the next hour and a half. I've since spoken to Mistress and told Her I'll need to go back to finish another weekend. I can't do it tomorrow as I'm visiting my Mother in the morning and then Mistress has told me I have to do some studying for a professional qualification I need.

While I was working, I was listening to files from on my iPod, but so quietly I couldn't really here them. I hope they work subliminally! Has anyone had any success with these files or should I just listen to ?

Besides the bouquet, I left a Thank You card. I wrote, "Dear Madam A---,

Many thanks for allowing me to clean Your lovely home: it was a pleasure.

Thank You also for my lovely leotard. It fits really well.




I've got a Thank You card for Mistress, too. Between the flowers and cards, that's my pocket money for the week spent!

I'll be wearing my male disguise when I go to see my Mother tomorrow. My family doesn't react well to good news (my promotion to manager resulted in my Mother accusing me of graft and corruption, which took the shine off things a little) never mind what they'd see as a perversion.

Madam Rebecca, if You've got this far first, thank You and second, I seem to remember reading Your standard for promotion to Maid, which was, I believe, for the sissy to clean house for two Ladies, in addition to cleaning for his Mistress. I'm cleaning for my Mistress and Madam, so that leaves one more. When I was seventeen, my Mother wasn't well and I used to leave school during my study periods in order to do the housework (mostly dusting, polishing and washing dishes) every day. Does this qualify as my second house, or should I duck?

It's now nearly midnight and, although I'm physically shattered, I'm nowhere near as mentally tired as I get after a day in the office. Weird.

Good night!




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