Complicated novels often employ a cheat sheet of characters, reminding you who everyone is, particularly those secondary folks who only pop up once every fifty pages or so. I took the same approach with my first book, Laundry Love: Finding Joy in a Common Chore, and I’m offering up bios here as well. (“Who’s Louise again?”) So, taking my cue from Tolstoy, my list includes personal descriptions, each one’s relationship to myself, and the celebrity or character who comes to mind when I think of each. After all, if my life were a house, I’d fill it with all the people I love. Feel free to refer back to the list whenever needed.
Mom: Her friends know her as Wilma, but she’s always Mom to me. She and my dad gave me an incredible childhood and influenced me in many ways, perhaps most especially with their desire to make everyone feel welcome in our home. Mom is the ultimate hostess and the queen of graciousness, putting everyone at ease when they visit. Not long ago, we went on vacation together and, sure enough, she played hostess when I visited her hotel room, offering me a slice of pound cake that she’d baked and brought along. As I’ve said before, she’s like Jackie Kennedy—in leopard print and with a Southern drawl. And like Jackie, she would’ve whipped that White House into shape in no time. Her philosophy: A neat, clean, well-appointed home is a happy one.
Dad: I owe my understanding of how houses work to Dad, aka Ron. He was working as a boilermaker when he decided on a new career: building houses. The first home he ever built was my childhood house, and he was off to the races—an apt metaphor, considering we lived in Kentucky, home of the Derby. As a kid, I loved looking at his blueprints and visiting his construction sites. He was forward thinking too, introducing new approaches to his houses long before they were regular practices—tasks like placing phone jacks, and later cable jacks, in every room; adding utility sinks in mudrooms and garages; and creating multiple heat zones by using more than one heat pump. I also learned from Dad to pay a little more up front for good-quality home items. He’d say, “You’ll forget what you paid, but you’ll enjoy it forever.” (Plus, you’ll rarely have to replace those items, so you’ll actually save money in the long run.) For example, my first “big boy” bed is now in my mom’s guest room. Dad’s philosophy: Set up your house to live in it. Really live in it. As for the characters who remind me of my dad, I’d say Jonathan Hart from Hart to Hart or a really nice J. R. Ewing from Dallas, both popular 1980s TV shows.
Jarrod: My little brother started working for my dad as a kid, soaking up his knowledge like a sponge. And while Jarrod’s a social worker, in his personal life he’s the go-to guy if you’re building anything. He’s built more decks, additions, and garages for his friends than I can count. And like our granddad, he’s a tinkerer. He’s the first person I call when I need to fix something and don’t know how. Jarrod either knows how to do that something or knows someone who knows how to do that something. He’s Mr. Fix-It to a T. And like our parents, Jarrod is kind and giving, always jumping in to help others.
Granny Dude: While her given name was Irene, I always called my mom’s mom Granny Dude. When I was four, my family moved in with her while we were building our house next door. And I quickly saw that everyone loved to stop by to visit her—she considered everyone family. I completely adored her, and I know she felt the same about me. Throughout my school years, I’d stop by her house to see her on my way home every day. As an adult, I moved home for a year when my mom and Granny Dude were living together—I’m so lucky to have had that time with her. If she were still with us, I know she would’ve loved the ten-minute clean options in the pages ahead! And once again, I look to Dallas for a character—Granny Dude was like Miss Ellie.
Granny Martha: Old-fashioned and Appalachian, Granny Martha and Grandpa, my dad’s parents, lived about a half hour from our house, and I used to stay with them many weekends. Their house was midcentury modern with an open concept and no formal parlor. There was no pretense in that house—comfort was key. In my mind’s eye, I always think of her in a day dress and an apron, cooking down-home, delicious meals for my grandpa’s workers and keeping the coffee percolating all day. She’d have fit in perfectly as Grandma Walton on The Waltons. Oh, and she made the fluffiest, most amazing corn bread stuffing ever—no one can replicate her recipe, try as we have.
Nancy: Nancy is married to my dad, but calling her a stepmother sounds cold and impersonal. From the time I met her when I was twelve, she has been warm and loving. While she worked as a banker, she’s a true homemaker—her home is always neat, her food is always amazing, and she loves to make everyone around her happy, starting with my dad. (We’re all lucky he met her.) If you visit, she’ll have your favorite food waiting. Mine is her Chex mix. Her grandkids love Ale-8, a Kentucky ginger-citrus soft drink. While they live out of state, she always has cases on hand for whenever they visit. Think of her as Mrs. Brady, aka Florence Henderson on The Brady Bunch.
Ruby: Ruby lived on the hill where I grew up. I always loved her travel stories and big-city ways. She taught me many lessons about style and polish that I still use today. What she understood so well was the importance of creating spaces you can enjoy, personalizing your décor, and making cleaning easy. For example, she purchased three vacuums, one for each level of her house. That sounds like an indulgent choice, but she knew she was much more likely to sweep if the vacuum cleaners were easily accessible. She displayed her knickknacks in a glass-fronted case, so she rarely had to dust them. And she kept a basket of towels on her patio, so she could wipe down her outdoor furniture right after a rain. I learned so much from her about making daily life great, and every time I watch the film Mame, I think of her.
Louise: My mom’s middle name is Louise because of Louise—a friend of Granny Dude and Granddad’s. Always single, Louise treated my mother like a really lucky niece, and I grew up thinking of her as a bonus grandmother. She lived in the same house nearly her entire life, updating it to suit her needs as she grew older; she lived on her own until she passed at ninety-three. Louise could also do anything with fabric, yarn, and thread: She made clothes, knitted, crocheted, embroidered, did needlepoint, and more. One reason I love doing needlepoint today is because of her. Think of her as that older, fun, and wise neighbor in every Hallmark movie you’ve ever seen.
Ross: My love is the funny one, the one who allows me to follow my passions, the one who makes me want to clean, do laundry, and breathe. Ross is the reason I want to make my house a home. And despite the chaos of home projects, he always appreciates the results. When I met Ross in 2005, he told me that I should write a book. Now I’ve got two. These books, like my story, aren’t complete without Ross in them. In fact, for this book, Ross, a longtime pop music critic, was an integral creator of the song lists you’ll find throughout the book. I couldn’t have made them without his musical insights and creativity. Think of, well, I think of perfection when I think of him, so think of whomever that is to you.