CLEANING

I am far from an ideal housekeeper.

Most people have junk drawers - I have junk rooms.

I have more hiding places in closets, under beds, inside cabinets and on top of bookcases than you can possibly imagine.






So tonight my book club is coming over for it's monthly meeting.

Time for candlelight - not for the mood, but to hide most of the dust.

REMARKABLE DISCOVERIES IN THE PANTRY

Some places in my home get cleaned only rarely.

Okay, well, there are quite a few spots in my home which do not get cleaned regularly.

It might also clarify things if you realize how low my cleaning standards are.

But after an ENTIRE package of spaghetti noodles was spilled over all the contents of my pantry, I vowed to take everything OUT of my pantry, clean the floor and sort the contents.

I was pleasantly surprised by a few things I found - a jar of chocolate topping that I'd forgotten about - two jars of strawberry jam - and FOUR cans of chow mien noodles.

I was appalled at Hamburger Helper boxes from the turn of the century (I am not kidding, folks), and a half-filled box of lasagna noodles.

And with the majority of the stuff, I simply stuffed it back in and shut the door on it all until the next time something sloppy gets spilled.

AN OPENED WINDOW

I finally finished clearing out one corner of my room that has been the stashing place for thousands (literally, I am afraid) of old file, notebooks, random photographs, and (I am being brutally honest here) mouse spoor/feces/dung (yes, that's what was underneath all the paperwork).

I cleaned everything up nicely, and then immediately filled it back up, just with newer stacks of old files, notebooks, random photographs.

But there now was a clear opening to a window that has been shuttered and curtained for the past several years.






So I opened it.

What is there about new air currents - different scents floating through the window - a completely novel view of my mountains?




Now that I've opened it, I hope I never shut it again.

DOMESTIC DISTURBANCE

"Any abusive, violent, coercive, forceful, or threatening act or word inflicted by one member of a family or household on another can constitute domestic violence."



Today, I freely admit I committed domestic disturbance.




I threatened my poor damaged and urine-stained carpet with the vacuum.

I abusively and violently attacked the floors with a broom. 



And I swore violently at the various dust-bunnies, the cobwebs hiding up in the corners, and the permanent scars all around my house.


Okay, go ahead and call 911.

AND HERE IN THIS CORNER...

Murphy's Law goes like this:

   Anything that can possible go wrong, does.
There is also

   If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong

   If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something


   Enough research will tend to support whatever theory.


And one of my personal favorites:

   After you bought a replacement for something you've lost and searched for everywhere, you'll find the original.

And tonight, another one was proven yet again to be completely correct...

If you clean the house before people come over, they will then end up being in the ONE SECTION where no one ever goes and so you didn't even attempt to clean it - so it has dust, dirt and actual literal DIRTY LAUNDRY scattered all over the furniture.

WHO ARE YOU?

When I was growing up, my mother wanted to have a cute little girl dressed in pink and doing ballet - someone just like her granddaughter, my neice, who was a year older than I was, and was blonde, petite and blue-eyed with ringlets.

Unfortunately, instead, she got me instead.

Tonight a friend and I were discussing her Type A... well, perhaps Type A++ compulsive need - perhaps obsession - to have every part of her life to be clean, organized, and in alphabetical, color and tonal order.

She said she envied people like me who can "let go."

And it made me realize once again how many years it has taken me to get here - to be able to "let go."

 

To not have to have things immaculate.

To not worry about things I have no control over.

To not try to be someone I'm not.
 
And not envy those who seem to remain 'focused' and intent and get things down but at the cost of high blood pressure, tension, and the inability to relax.

To paraphrase a very old expression, I don't think anyone of their deathbed is going to wish they had spent more time cleaning the kitchen floor.

 
So I'm okay with less than clean floors (heck, I have two dogs - they're pretty DIRTY floors regardless of what I do), dust on almost anything, a bathtub that is non-gracefully degrading into a permanent yellow shade, and a porch that is rarely (if ever) swept.

Because I have a good relationships with all three of my kids, I have low blood pressure, and I can take naps almost anytime I wish to. And with my dogs.

I'm okay being me.

LEVELS OF JOY

Most of us have an inner child.

Some of us are born old souls.

However, please let me describe the ranges of age displayed by my 28 year old daughter in about six hours today:

Age 2: Sheer and complete joy when told you are going to a movie.

Age 6: The frustration of trying to get both shoes on while someone is waiting for you.

Age 9: Pride at being able to purchase a movie ticket on your very own.

Age 13:  Beginning to cry when mommy won't give you enough to buy popcorn also.

Age 15: Embarrasment by your mom picking you up outside the mall after the movie ends.

Age 18: Telling your mom the movie's entire plot to the point of being annoying.

Age 14: Trying to defend the disaster that your apartment is in, and mom has been cleaning the entire time you've been at the movie.

Age 10: Putting away, with loud and violent protest, five items mom had left for you to take care of.

Age 4: Dissolving into tears when being told what must be cleaned up before tomorrow.

I feel as though I have aged years.