Following on from my dream about King Zog last week, I was hard put to think of something to write about this week. As often happens, however, a seemingly random event fired up my creative writing spark.
If I wasn’t so awash with morals, I’d tell you a fib. It might go something like this. “Having woken early to write for three hours in peace, sipping crystalline water from my own well as I do every morning, I was visited by the Muse. ‘Eureka!’ I cried (quietly, so as not to wake my sleeping household). ‘I have it!’ This week, I shall craft a most marvellous piece for my devoted fans upon the art of cleaning. Thank heavens that I run such a tidy house, with sparkling worktops, gleaming sinks and a pleasant fragrance of spring flowers always in the air.”
This is not what happened. Don’t spread it around, but in between writing some articles, my monthly blog for the ACW and some freelance blogs for clients, I took five to scroll through Facebook. Like you do. Well, like I do.
I knew vaguely that there was a person called Mrs Hinch with a huge Instagram following who cleaned things. As I was time-sucking my way through other people’s lives, up popped something called Mrs Hinch’s Cleaning Army.
Mrs Hinch of years gone by
Turns out that Mrs Hinch (aka Sophie Hinchcliffe) is an Essex housewife in her late twenties who has attracted over 3 million followers on Instagram alone with her cleaning tips and hacks. The woman is an internet sensation. Her chatty, everywoman videos have led to cleaning products selling out all over the UK. Reassuringly, she’s not a fan of extremely expensive stuff, quite the reverse. Intrigued, I trawled through some of her posts and was surprised by how chuffed I was to realise that I had some of her favourites in my cleaning cupboard.
Mrs Hinch admits that she suffers from anxiety and finds that a regular cleaning routine helps her deal with it. She’s even made the Sunday Times Bestseller list with her first book, “Hinch Yourself Happy”.
Let me refer you back to the title of this blog.
I can 100% guarantee that you will never, ever be watching tips from Mrs Leigh on how to clean or style your home. I will not be writing about any of my housework tips because I’ve only got one:
Why keep on doing housework when it only encourages it to come back?
I do clean, obviously. I wash up almost constantly, and I’ve either got a wash on, a wash drying or a wash folded and dry waiting to be put away. Sometimes all three at once. I dust fairly often, wipe the smears off the mirrors and whip out my crevice tool (what a great phrase!) when vacuuming with my Shark. However, I don’t have a cleaning routine. I don’t enjoy it. I hate the fact that you could spend an entire day to get your house gleaming and within 24 hours, the rot would have set in. It doesn’t help that our draughty Victorian house is heated via a solid fuel Rayburn, meaning we have soot and dust flying around between October and May.
So, what would @mrsleigh be famous for? What exactly would my imaginary 3 million followers be following? I’d like to think it was my writing.
Mrs Hinch shares pictures of her beautiful grey and white interiors, not a hair out of place. But she manages to do this without ever being annoying, or smug or pretending that she’s got this life thing down. She shares her vulnerability. I like that. I am a brand-new Mrs Hinch fan, but I have detected real authenticity and courage in her posts.
I posted my first ever personal blog, It’s All Completly Fabulous, back on 7th November last year. I was a bit scared, to be honest. It’s easy to interview people and write up their stories, quite another matter to let your slip show to potential readers you’ve never even met. I hit “publish” and waited for people either not to read it, or to read it and hate it. They didn’t. Phew. And that was the beginning of something which has helped me to build up my confidence and deal with the odd outbreak of anxiety. Feeling nervous about something? Write a blog. Random memory floating about in your head? Write a story about it. It works for me, but I appreciate that Mrs Leigh’s Writing Army may never exist. If it did, I’d have to ask one of the children to show me how to work Instagram, but it may never come to that.
Writing. My saviour, my pleasure, my job, my dream. Just as Mrs Hinch can’t rest until her plughole smells lovely, I keep on coming up with more and more blog ideas and can’t relax till they’re written.
My house is no more gleaming than when I first started writing this. But I’ve learned something in the meantime. Thanks Mrs Hinch!