Yesterday I got in a mood. Pregnant ladies call it ‘nesting’, voluntarily (and possibly temporarily) barren women like me refer to it as ‘spring cleaning’. Tomato, tomato. Pretend you read and pronounced both ‘tomato’s differently. (If I were referring to tomatoes plural, not two singular and differently pronounced words, yes I’d have spelled it tomatoes. Individual words,
So I cleaned, is what I’m getting at here.
We clean the house every day, because our yard is a mudpit and our dogs love it a little too much, and because Casey is the sheddingest dog you’ll ever meet, but this was the first deep-cleaning of the year.
I was wearing a chiffon dark pink-and-white polka-dotted housewife type shirt, appropriately enough, and I attribute the success of Phase One of house-cleaning in part to this factor. I spring-cleaned while doing laundry and had a real matronly attitude about it, huffs and all.
It made me feel worlds better when it was done. So much so that I might clean again today when the gon’-be-husband gets home from his club meeting.
There is something about going into a room that is DONE that is so nice. My craft room looks less like an explosion and more like a hospitable and charming part of the house now.
And this is what some call being domesticated, old, and done with fun.
But I still have fun. Yesterday we went out driving and taking pictures of things we liked. We enjoyed some drinks at night. We have fun conversation all the time.
This keyboard is dusty…
Do you find spring cleaning enjoyable, or a nightmare?