Updated 3/8...Or, a victory, a failure, and a P.S.
Homemade cleaner month continues. I tell you what, people, the ups and downs I've had are unbelievable. And pathetic. I mean, we're talking about cleaners here, not world peace.
First, the victory: I found this recipe for bath, sink and tile cleaner online. It is AWESOME. (I'd previously been using a baking soda/vinegar combo, which worked fine, but this works much better. Plus it's sudsy, so I can see where I've cleaned, which, when you're OCD, is a plus.) I have it stored in a quart jar right now because I'm out of squirt bottles, but someday, this cleaner will have a bottle all its own. In the meantime, I just pour a little in the sink and swish it around. It doesn't take much. One little note--it separates, so give it a good shake before using.
UPDATE: I tried to put my pre-made mixture into a squirt bottle today. It didn't work--the baking soda is all puffed up from the water/castile soap/something or other and it refused to go through the funnel I'd hilariously thought would be up for the transferring job. So I've decided it is going to live in my quart jar and I'm going to like it. It IS a great cleaner, so I figure I can bend on this.
2/3 cup baking soda
1/2 cup castile soap
2 tablespoons white vinegar
1/2 cup water
A few drops of tea tree oil
It's good I had this little victory, truth be told, because my dishwasher continues to offend. I think I've gone from anger to... wait, what's the next step again? More anger? That sounds about right.
The failure: When I wrote on Monday, I had come to the conclusion that I needed to rinse my dishes well before putting them in the dishwasher. I did, threw in my homemade soap, and! Success! Well, mostly success. For some reason my bowls and glasses just want to revel in residue powder/foodstuffs. Just because you're all curvy and fancy doesn't mean you don't have to behave, bowls and glasses! Why aren't you more like the dinner plates?
So, emboldened by the best load of dishes I'd had in a while, I decided to run the dishwasher with my homemade soap sans initial rinse in the sink. And do you know what happened? Right, I got to run the entire load again. Even the plates rebelled.
Fine. The next load I cut down on the soap, thinking maybe that would cut down on the residue, and rinsed everything off.
So you can imagine the fit I threw, alone in my kitchen, when the bowls and glasses STILL were all residued-up. (It's possible I just made up a new phrase. My mommy will be ever so proud.)
Fine, fine, fine. BE LIKE THAT. I filled my sink with a bit o' water and rinsed those bowls and glasses off my dang self. I'm pretty sure another run in the dishwasher would just bring more of the same, so why bother? Plus I had a few things to wash by hand anyway. What's an extra ten minutes of my life?
(I'm trying to be wise and mature on purpose. Anyone fooled?)
So we'll see what the next load brings. I'm thinking rinse in the sink, less detergent, a few drops of castile soap. Well, what could happen? Aside from a complete mental breakdown, I mean.
UPDATE: People! I actually got a CLEAN LOAD OF DISHES! (Heck yeah, I'm yelling. THAT is how excited I am.) True, I rinsed off everything before loading the dishwasher. And I added a wee bit o' castile soap. And somewhere in there I must have flipped open the rinse agent dispenser, so perhaps we just had a motherlode o' vinegar pouring out. Who knows. The point is, I had only one bowl--one!--that didn't rinse completely off out of an entire load of dishes. I am dancing as we speak. I am also hoping we can hit two in a row.
A P.S.: I forgot to mention that I almost cut my finger clean off* on Sunday while attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich. You know when you realize you've done something very, very bad before the pain and blood kick in? That was me. Abby ran to get me a band-aid, and I'm sort of surprised she even found one because Johanna tends to need band-aids all the time, for scratches or just for style. Perhaps this is another waste issue we need to address... when I've healed.
*Fine, not clean off. Not even deep enough for stitches. Just deep enough to bleed like crazy and hurt. Are you happy now?
Breaking Benjamin, Hopeless. Oh, Ben. You might need a hug more than I do.