A home is an oasis and a haven for many people. But a lot of common errors are committed that might eventually destroy a house. These are 12 things not to do in order to maintain a tidy and functional home.
1. Use Cleaners with Caution
When used on an inappropriate surface, most cleaners—even multi-surface cleaners—can harm furniture and other home items. For instance, grout in bathtubs, showers, floors, and countertops shouldn’t be cleaned with toilet bowl cleansers. The strong acid content of these cleansers will eventually erode the caulking. Try a homemade solution instead, made with dish soap, hydrogen peroxide, and baking soda. Just make up a mixture, let it soak for at least five minutes, and then use a grout brush or an old toothbrush to scrape the dirt away.
2. Avoid Direct Spraying
It takes a lot of energy to clean surfaces like floors, counters, and appliances, and it is annoying when dirt seems to be left behind. But it can be a film that the cleaners left behind instead of dirt or grime. Instead of spraying the area, use a towel or mop to directly avoid any leftover film or stickiness.
3. Take a Shower Before Leaving
After taking a shower, walking about drenched spreads bacteria far and wide. It may eventually begin to distort the floor or leak beneath, which would lead to the growth of mold. It’s preferable to completely dry off before getting out of the bath or shower.
4. Humidity in Hardwood
Just like dripping shower water can harm the floor, using excessive amounts of water when mopping the floors can also be harmful. In particular, excessive moisture exposure causes warping and damage to hardwood flooring. Try using an oil soap and water mixture or a cleaner designed specifically for hardwood floors while mopping them, being careful not to soak the floors completely in water.
5. Remember the Fan
Most bathrooms and kitchens include exhaust fans, which are functional fixtures. They not only assist prevent mold growth but also purify the air by eliminating contaminants. After a steamy bath or shower, exhaust fans assist remove moisture from the bathroom, which is fantastic news for those who live in extremely humid areas.
6. Wetness in Unexpected Areas
Although most people are aware that bathrooms are ideal sites for mold to develop due to the high volume of water and steam used there, other areas may also be home to some rather unsavory microorganisms. Bacteria thrive in warm, humid, and dark environments. Therefore, the ideal environments for the growth of bacteria and mold are found in toilet or toothbrush holders. Before storing them, it’s a good idea to let them air dry to reduce the formation of bacteria and dangerous pathogens. Another material that provides the perfect habitat for bacterial growth is fabric. Towels should therefore be hung to dry rather than placed in a basket or on the ground. Additionally, to avoid bacterial development, hand towels, rugs, and show towels should be cleaned or sterilized every few weeks.
7. Use Vinegar With Caution
Although vinegar is a great cleaner substitute, some gadgets may be harmed by it. For instance, the high acidity of vinegar might harm dishwasher rubber components. Using vinegar on granite countertops is another situation where it’s not the best cleaning option because it can remove the sealant.
8. Most People Get in bed too early.
Even though making the bed every morning is a wonderful habit, you should hold off for a little bit. Before making the bed, give it a little time to air out to reduce the growth of bacteria and odor-causing bacteria as well as perspiration accumulation.
9. Making Use of a Sponge
Meats and vegetables, in particular, contain a multitude of dangerous bacteria that can spread from one surface to another and land on sponges and wash towels. Consequently, hydrogen peroxide is a more efficient way to eradicate bacteria from cutting boards and won’t contaminate sponges or other areas in the kitchen.
10. Keep the Sun Out of Your Home
Unquestionably, the sun is a superpower that nourishes both our bodies and souls. Doctors advise wearing sunscreen because, well, it’s quite harmful. However, furniture can also sustain damage from the sun’s rays. To avoid overexposing furniture to the sun, it is therefore a good idea to close curtains and blinds when leaving the house.
11. Using a Sweep rather than a Vacuum
Using a broom to sweep the floor might aid in removing some dust and pet hair. Nevertheless, extra dust is frequently dispersed when cleaning and then emptying a dustpan. Instead, even on hard floors, a vacuum will gather dust and debris.
12. Avoid overfilling anything
It’s easy to overstock pantries, closets, and storage beneath the house with all of your favorite items. But this could lead to a lot of issues with your house. Airflow can be obstructed by overcrowding, which is inefficient and expensive. However, it can also retain moisture, harming the structural integrity of the house. Moreover, excessive weight in closets might result in similar issues since it can harm the walls.
I Opened My Garage to a Homeless Woman—You Won’t Believe What I Found When I Walked In Unannounced
When a rich man, who feels emotionally distant, gives shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he becomes intrigued by her strength. Their unexpected friendship starts to grow—until one day he walks into his garage without knocking and finds something shocking. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?
I had everything money could buy: a big house, fancy cars, and more wealth than I could ever use in a lifetime. Yet, inside, I felt an emptiness I couldn’t fill.
I had never had a family since women always seemed to want me only for the money I got from my parents. At sixty-one, I often wished I had made different choices.
I tapped the steering wheel absentmindedly, trying to shake off the familiar weight on my chest. That’s when I spotted a messy woman bent over a trash can.
I slowed the car, unsure why I even bothered. People like her were everywhere, right? But there was something about the way she moved, her thin arms digging through the garbage with a grim determination that tugged at something inside me.
She looked fragile but fierce, like she was holding on to life by sheer willpower.
Before I knew it, I had pulled over. The engine hummed as I rolled down the window, watching her from the safety of my car.
She looked up, startled. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought she might run. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened up, brushing her hands on her faded jeans.
“Do you need some help?” I asked, my voice sounding strange to me. I wasn’t the kind of person to talk to strangers or invite trouble into my life.
“You offering?” There was a sharpness in her voice, but also a tiredness, like she’d heard every empty promise before.
“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out before I could think. I stepped out of the car. “I just saw you there, and it didn’t seem right.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on mine. “What’s not right is life.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And cheating, no-good husbands in particular. But you don’t seem like someone who knows much about that.”
I winced, even though I knew she was right.
“Maybe not.” I paused, unsure how to continue. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”
She hesitated, her eyes darting away for a second before locking back onto mine. “No.”
The word hung in the air between us. That was all I needed to hear.
“Look, I have a garage. It’s more like a guest house. You could stay there until you get back on your feet.”
I expected her to laugh in my face, to tell me to go away. But instead, she blinked at me, the edges of her tough exterior starting to crack.
“I don’t take charity,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable.
“It’s not charity,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. “It’s just a place to stay. No strings attached.”
“Okay. Just for a night,” she replied. “I’m Lexi, by the way.”
The drive back to my house was quiet. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her arms wrapped around herself like a shield.
When we arrived, I led her to the garage-turned-guest-house. It wasn’t fancy, but it was enough for someone to live in.
“You can stay here,” I said, pointing to the small space. “There’s food in the fridge, too.”
“Thanks,” she muttered.
Over the next few days, Lexi stayed in the garage, but we saw each other for meals. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about her pulled at me.
Maybe it was how she kept going despite everything life threw at her, or perhaps the loneliness in her eyes, which mirrored my own. Maybe it was just the simple fact that I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
One night, as we sat across from each other at dinner, she began to open up.
“I used to be an artist,” she said softly. “Well, I tried to be. I had a small gallery, a few shows… but it all fell apart.”
“What happened?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Life happened. My husband left me for a younger woman he got pregnant and kicked me out. My whole life unraveled after that.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “It’s in the past.”
But I could tell it wasn’t, not really. The pain was still there, just below the surface. I knew that feeling all too well.
As the days passed, I found myself looking forward to our conversations.
Lexi had a sharp wit and a biting sense of humor that cut through the gloom of my empty house. Slowly, the hollow space inside me seemed to shrink.
It all changed one afternoon. I had been rushing around, trying to find the air pump for one of my cars. I barged into the garage without knocking, expecting to grab it quickly and leave. But what I saw stopped me cold.
There, spread across the floor, were dozens of paintings. Of me.
Or rather, grotesque versions of me. One painting showed me with chains around my neck, another with blood pouring from my eyes. In the corner, there was one of me lying in a casket.
I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This was how she saw me? After everything I’d done for her?
I backed out of the room before she noticed me, my heart pounding.
That night, as we sat down for dinner, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. Whenever I looked at Lexi, all I could see were those horrific portraits.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Lexi,” I said, my voice tight. “What are those paintings?”
Her fork clattered to the plate. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw them,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. “The paintings of me. The chains, the blood, the coffin. What the hell is that?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see those,” she stammered.
“Well, I did,” I said coldly. “Is that how you see me? As some monster?”
“No, it’s not that.” She wiped her eyes, her voice shaky. “I was just… angry. I’ve lost everything, and you have so much. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t help it. I needed to let it out.”
“So you painted me like a villain?” I asked sharply.
She nodded, shame etched on her face. “I’m sorry.”
I sat back, letting the silence stretch between us. I wanted to forgive her. I wanted to understand. But I couldn’t.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” I said flatly.
Lexi’s eyes widened. “Wait, please—”
“No,” I interrupted. “It’s over. You need to leave.”
The next morning, I helped her pack her things and drove her to a nearby shelter. She didn’t say much, and neither did I. Before she stepped out of the car, I handed her a few hundred dollars.
She hesitated but then took the money with trembling hands.
Weeks passed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. Not just because of the disturbing paintings, but because of what we had before. There had been warmth and connection — something I hadn’t felt in years.
Then, one day, a package arrived at my door. Inside was a painting, but this one was different. It wasn’t grotesque or twisted. It was a serene portrait of me, captured with a peace I hadn’t known I possessed.
Tucked inside the package was a note with Lexi’s name and phone number scrawled at the bottom.
My finger hovered over the call button, my heart beating faster than it had in years. Getting worked up over a phone call felt silly, but there was so much more riding on it than I wanted to admit.
I swallowed hard and hit “Call” before I could second-guess myself. It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?” Her voice was hesitant, like she sensed it could only be me.
I cleared my throat. “Lexi. It’s me. I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it. I figured I owed you something better than… those other paintings.”
“You didn’t owe me anything, Lexi. I wasn’t exactly fair to you, either.”
“You had every right to be upset.” Her voice was steadier now. “What I painted — those were things I needed to get out of me, but they weren’t really about you. You were just… there. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Lexi. I forgave you the moment I saw that painting.”
Her breath hitched. “You did?”
“I did,” I said, and I meant it. It wasn’t just the painting that had changed my mind; it was the feeling that I had let something meaningful slip away because I was too scared to face my pain. “And… well, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could start over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe we could talk. Maybe over dinner? If you’d like.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d really like that.”
We made plans to meet in a few days. Lexi told me she used the money I gave her to buy new clothes and get a job. She was planning to move into an apartment when she got her first paycheck.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having dinner with Lexi again.
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