New Nomads

House sitting: my introductory e-mail

For your potential amusement, below the photos are the non-personal parts of an e-mail I recently sent to a person who asked me about house sitting [with later comments in brackets]. As you will read, some (perhaps most) of this is about what I prefer. By clearly requesting what I need to do a good job, I am hoping to encourage other parties to be just as clear with their own requests.

A recent satisfied client (first looking pensive, then exploring, and finally near a blossoming fruit tree, which isn't really in the shot, because in order to take the photo I had to throw her leash over that pole, and then she stepped over it, and GAH). Photos taken on Mount Tabor.

Me as a house sitter

I try to be a "leave no trace" house sitter who provides maximum emotional support for your animals.

At your convenience I will come over for a pre-meeting in which you can tell me what their routines are and your preferences in case of emergency (vet, etc). I will also handle lights and mail and paper if any; let me know what you prefer about your plants.

I will usually walk your dog in his/her own neighborhood, at his/her own pace, but occasionally I take dogs to my favorite walks on Mt Tabor. (Flat or hilly depending on fitness of dog.) Walks will always be on-leash unless you would like the dog to go to a local dog park as well. (Depending on whether the dog gets to know me, sometimes the dog park is a bad idea - can't find his/her human again etc.)

[numad: For example, the dog pictured here had too much arthritis to rough-and-tumble, so for her the dog park was out. In the personal meeting I will find out the owner+dog preferences for meeting+greeting other dogs: bit of scuffling OK or zero contact? Thanks to Mary and Monique (and Kylie and Saffron) and Jill (and Hannah and Lola) I have learned the basics of being a dog-human - not to professional level, but at least I'm farther along than a civilian. And of course I don't expect cats to to warm up to me or even show themselves unless something is not to their liking or they are "prefer to sleep on a warm person" cats. And thanks to Rob and Joe I am reptile-positive...]

What I prefer to do is set up my double-sized air mattress in an open space on the floor. (You can tell me which room.) I will use a clean pair of your sheets (so they'll smell "right" to the animals - usual washing products etc.) and throw a blanket over them (could be yours or mine) and bring my own pillow. The animals are welcome to sleep on or near me since they will be missing you keenly. Wherever possible I will do the same things every day at the same time and this will also have a calming effect.

The only other thing I need is a place to set up my computer. (Wireless net access is a bonus but not required.) Kitchen table, dining room table, whatever. (NOT your desk. Privacy - personal magic - etc.)

I bring my own food in a sealed bin (dogs can smell my protein bars, which have chocolate on them, and I know chocolate is bad for them) and my own cleaning products (melaleuca - tea tree oil based). If you have fresh bread I will freeze it and you can ask me to finish open bottles of milk. You will probably notice that I've been in the kitchen but otherwise my goal is that you will come home and there WON'T be an adjustment. (And you don't have to change the sheets either before or after.) I wash clothes at my own place. [numad: right now this means the place of the family members I am staying with.]

If your dog is a shredding dog (some aren't), anything major that is shredded will be captured in a plastic bag so you can perhaps put it back together or at least know what happened to it. (Usually by the time I find the pieces I can't tell exactly what it was.)

If I am borrowing your car, I can drive you to the airport and also pick you up. This is optional. I have full insurance and a roadside assistance club membership and will return the car with a full tank of petrol.

I can provide overly detailed daily reports or just occasional updates on "exceptions". Call any time to ask how things are going.

Leaving no trace

(excerpted from the Burning Man Principles)

...We are committed to leaving no physical trace of our activities wherever we gather. We clean up after ourselves and endeavor, whenever possible, to leave such places in a better state than when we found them.

The money

My goal is for you to pay me enough that it shows that you respect what I am doing, but not so much that you resent the amount it's costing. (Most of my editing and computer clients name their own fees as well, and it seems to work fine.) Animal-sitting clients sometimes pay me "what it would cost to board the most expensive animal" minus a ~40% discount and then the other animals are free; thank you Allan for originally suggesting this pricing method. [numad: for most clients this paragraph is only the beginning of a potentially lengthy process of working out a price that feels good. I seem to enjoy discussing money more than most other people I know.]

Ceramic turtles: in your hosts' kitchen, what's safe to do?

Just now I was in my sister's kitchen thinking of Elin Whitney-Smith's advice, given to me long ago: "At someone else's house, you can wash and dry but you can't put away." That's the gist; if you're in a hurry, skip to the pictures.

As a nomad, helping when my hosts are physically present is a snap and also facilitates quality hanging-out time. When they're not around, based on years of experience, here are the safe helping activities:

• Wash dishes by hand and either rack or dry them.
• Put away just the items where you can already see one of the exact same thing in a particular location: silverware and plates and glasses are usually safe.
• If the dishwasher's contents are clean, put away what you can and stack the other clean items in a neat, obvious pile outside the dishwasher. (A dishwasher half unloaded looks like it hasn't been run, causing mental strain. How can you tell? Surfaces feel squeaky; zero food on silverware; standing water on the upside-down tops of the mugs.) 
• If you have emptied the dishwasher, or you're sure its contents are dirty, put items in.
• If there's open food that might want to go in the fridge, put it in (but in plain sight).
• Put lids on containers.
• Wipe the obvious surfaces (including the stove).
• Refresh any water left out for pets.
• If you can see the trash and recycling cans, empty the kitchen and bathroom wastebaskets. 
• Make yourself a cuppa [Australian term] and enjoy having a kitchen to help out in. 

Re housekeeping standards, when staying with others I try for slightly higher than local but not annoyingly so. (Rather than my own low standards, which are a whole 'nother posting.) As a general guideline I don't try to clean anything that it looks like the hosts don't clean. I enjoy polishing andirons but maybe my hosts have worked for years to give them that specific patina: to scrub it off would absolutely be nudgy. Nudgy new nomads are less likely to be asked back.

What, in my experience, is not safe to do?

Put away anything unique that you haven't seen taken out. If there is only one vegetable steaming rack, and you put it somewhere that seems to you like the perfect place, and the next time it's wanted (and the water is already boiling) it takes n minutes to find it, there is a chance that your hosts will spend those minutes calling down imprecations on your head. Especially if this drama actually delays a meal. (Neurotypical people rarely look for things until they need them. If they have spare time they will use it on higher priority tasks than wondering whether Julianne hid or moved anything of theirs yesterday.) Knives and cooking pots are in this category, unless your hosts have a knife block and hooks for the skillets or you can see that all the pots are in the same cupboard. Ditto with most packages of dry food.

Run the dishwasher or feed pets (unless you've been shown how much, what with, and when they prefer it to be done). Mistakes here can do actual harm.

Take out bedroom or office trash baskets. In fact, I try not to enter peoples' bedrooms or offices, unless they invite me in and are present, for reasons of privacy and good boundaries. I have dealt with trash professionally, and if I even look at a trash basket that might possibly hold paper with writing on it, or used lube packets, old habits will kick in. So I don't go near them. (House sitting: another topic.)

Reorganize cupboards or any other existing storage system whatsoever. In my sister's kitchen, my mom only tried this once.

To sum up: when in doubt, I do less. My goal is to reduce / replace work that the hosts would otherwise be doing. If they have to expend any effort cleaning up after my cleaning, I will have failed in my goal. Which brings me to the...

Tale of the bug mugs. My husband requested that our household practice ahimsa specifically in regard to insects. In every room we had a ceramic mug sitting on a postcard (or with a postcard inside it) so that we could quickly put the mug over an insect, slide the postcard behind or below the captive, and use the two together to carry the insect safely outdoors and release it. A dear friend who was visiting collected all the mugs in the kitchen and washed them and threw out the postcards. My husband was distressed but not for very long because I put them all back and fished the postcards (many of which had been selected for their classic "fun to read again" quality) out of the trash and immediately took my friend to the mountains. But it's an example of when in doubt.

As nomads, while cleaning or helping or relaxing, it is fine to enjoy the beautiful objects that our hosts have gathered, which are too heavy or breakable for us as nomads to own but which delight the eyes and hands. For example, while putting away plates just now I found five small ceramic turtles:

 
Damn, they're beautiful! What are they for? Who cares!

I found one turtle straying through the cupboard and the other four inside these nested bowls, so following the like with like principle I put all the turtles together. (After letting them have a little conference.) The bowls are beautiful in themselves:

In the background you can see the dishwasher and dish towels that inspired this posting. Everything in my sister's kitchen is visually nourishing, too.

Wearing a roller derby shirt from out of town

Tonight the Rose City Rollers league teams played each other in the second day of the "Season 6 closing scramble": the High Rollers (HRMF) defeated the Guns N Rollers, and the Heartless Heathers defeated the Break Neck Betties. And let's not forget the Vagine Regime exhibition match: they divided into 2 halves and then played themselves, which felt ... both comfortable (although when women do this politically I get all cranky) and of course hot. The thirty minute bouts were short enough that some players could be in two of them.

I am very much in awe of the physical ability required to play derby. Plus the thing I would find most difficult would be skating while looking behind to see who's trying to come through, which is roughly what the pivot has to do the most of. The last time I went skating (after which I decided to get back to the gym) I found it hard to skate forward and talk. So my hat is off to all the players.

Being a nomad doesn't mean "hanging back because I don't know anyone." It means, "plunging in now, because I might not be around that long," and, "seizing the moment." Mary McCartney turned me on to roller derby and the only derby shirt I have with me says "Boston Massacre" but I wore it anyway. I'm recording my nomad guidelines here and so one of them is: don't worry if you don't have the right shirt. In fact the chances of a nomad having the right shirt (with a local team logo, I mean) are low. This is one of the things we can give up on.

Trying to be festive, I did bring a sequined shawl to throw on and wave. Unfortunately because it was (New Orleans) Mardi Gras colours, during the bout between the the green team and the pink team I was sending an ambiguous signal.

The two things I have problems managing, as a nomad, are my costumes and books. I've left bits of my costumes (mostly given away on purpose; let's keep things moving!) around the world. I only regret one specific pair of greaves that I gave to an airline employee in Florida, sort of as a thank you gift for helping me get my broadsword onto the plane, and sort of because the Holy Spirit suggested that her daughter would like to dance in them, and sort of because making the human connection was an adventure. But they were the pair everyone wanted to borrow (featured in several photos from the first Nimbus) and were great tools for connection generally.

Baggage to drop:

- Worrying about having the right clothes
- Waiting until you know people to plunge into a situation