My house is gross, and it’s really only my fault. I chose to adopt two cats. I chose to buy my son two parakeets. I chose to have two kids. The vision of the piles of clutter often feels like a hot, thick vapor in my lungs, and it’s the reason I’m driven out into the yard where I can feel the breeze and watch things grow. However, at the end of the summer season, the veggie garden and perennial beds start to resemble the “cat room” of my house and provides little solace from the tasks I’m avoiding inside. The weeds and the rotten tomato vines pile up and…