How to Keep a Tidy House

I had some pretty devastating news yesterday and it is only now, having put 24 hours between the event and writing this, that I feel able to share my pain with the blogosphere. You see, my cleaner told me she was moving and so would no longer be able to work for me. I personally think that it's just an excuse as she's the third one to scarper in recent years. One hadn't even started the job; she just came round to look at the house and suddenly remembered she was fully booked up. My current cleaner is clearly made of slightly sterner stuff and, after her preliminary visit, decided to take on the challenge but did leave with the words 'It may take me a few weeks to get it all under control'. Oh, the shame!
I do try my best, you see, and struggle with the whole idea of having a cleaner at all, trying to shun my middle class upbringing in a pathetic 40-something attempt at rebellion. I have never been the tidiest of  people but at least if you are living alone then you know that you can do something about your mess if you want to. Nowadays I am faced with the twin challenges of Geof and Bryn and clearing up three lots of mess is just beyond my capabilities.

Geof is the worst offender. He is an inveterate hoarder and generates mess like no-one I have ever met before. We have one room in the house which is meant to be a bedroom but which we have optimistically named 'the computer room'. This is meant to be Geof's office but he never works in there on account of it being too full of junk to actually gain entry into it. Instead the 'office' with all its associated paraphernalia of files, folders, paper and plastic wallets moves into the lounge, or onto the dining room table. I just know that one day we are going to be featured in some channel 4 documentary about people who have to crawl through a tiny space in their junk filled home to reach the bed/toilet/kitchen and who weep as they are forced to throw out some old pram wheels and an empty sunny delight bottle.
So you see, losing my cleaner is not just a temporary middle-class hiccup. She was standing between me and almost certain social humiliation, divorce, years of expensive therapy and a possible visit from Kim and Aggie. If you know of a good (or even mediocre) cleaner who likes a challenge please let me have her details.