If spring ever gets here, I plan to clean. Really. It never fails to astound me the rate at which dirt, crud, cobwebs and dribbles multiply during the winter.
For instance. I be-bopped into the downstairs bathroom the other afternoon, wanting to check my general appearance before heading out the door. I have a really pretty mirror over the sink in there, but when I cast my eye into it something moved – and it wasn’t my reflection. No, no, it was a masterpiece of a cobweb, evenly gray with many fronds (pretty sure that’s what you call them). I looked around quick to see if Mom was peering over my shoulder and swiped at the thing with my hand. Oh – wait – Mom has been dead for a while now. But you never know. How the heck long had that mother of all cobwebs been there for crying out loud?
And then there are the staircases. We have two. One grand and one small. The carpet on the small stairs absorbs a multitude of sins. Not so the front hall stairs. No siree. They’re painted wood and trap all the bits and pieces from dirty feet, barfing cats, and spilling grandchildren. And to add insult to injury, hubby bumped a heavy bookcase down those stairs one morning when I was out so there are dings on every other step.
Yesterday, our most recent graduate of the School for Three-Year-Old Dictators, Sierra, ran barefooted into the laundry room. Where the cat box sits. Some litter had been pawed out onto the floor and when her feet touched it she screeched to a halt. “Grandma, you need to clean up!” She stepped gingerly out of the room with little bits of litter stuck between her toes looking quite indignant. On the plus side she did help me clean it up, but only because I let her use the little cat-shaped whisk broom. Sorry, no pictures of the laundry room allowed, you may have just eaten lunch.
So, let’s see. My spring cleaning check list will include: all the mirrors, the grand staircase, the laundry room, and probably all the floors. The one in the upstairs bathroom is practically made of hairspray. That should be fun. I can’t even bear to think of the 21 windows needing attention. I did have a very wise friend who suggested I clean only the inside of them. That way, you can see out, but nobody can see in. She was a funny little lady, that one.
It’s a good thing we have a snowstorm comin’. I won’t have to think about spring cleaning for a while yet. I think I'll look for a new mocha hot chocolate recipe instead. How does that sound?