My mother would be proud?

I grew up as an only child. Raised in a barn, (built in 1850, converted into cheese factory, then house...kid you not) by 2 great parents. They taught me wonderful things. My Dad taught me how to sit reallll still & feed birds, squirrels & chipmunks out of my hands. He taught me how to hit a nail just right so it felt like it melted into wood. My Mom taught me how to stand up for myself. A lesson that wasn't mastered (well...still trying to master that one) for a few decades. She taught me how to be witty, cook & clean.

Cleaning....the art of housekeeping. She taught me the shortcuts, tips of the trade & reasons to keep a clean house. Saturdays where "cleaning day." Since my Mom & Dad worked full time, Saturday was get-things-done-or-else-day. I didn't mind it too much. I enjoyed tiding up my space. As I grew, I loved cleaning my little world before my friends came over. Even as a teen, if there was some friends meeting at my house, I would spend my time cleaning every thing in sight. I blossomed in a clean house...who doesn't?! Clutter brings hostility, rage & depression. I feel it especially now as I get older. A clean house is a heavenly house.

Fast forward....2009. I am a hostile, rage filled, depressed women. I ain't 10 anymore. I hate cleaning my freak'n house! I only clean when friends threaten to come over. I do still have a faint rush in my veins "oooo, my friend is coming over, I can CLEAN!" Then I start to clean....anddd.... the wonder lust is OVER. I stuff crap in closets, tubs, ovens, cabinets. I spritz Bath & Body Works gag-me-with- apple-blossom-tree-scent to mask the fart smell wafting through my living room. I run around flushing toilets because thanks to a 5th. grade teacher, my sons don't flush toilets. "If it's yellow, let it mellow, If it's brown flush it down" (Thanks Mr. Walker...you obviously don't have kids at home!) Here's a new one kids...."if you shat in the toilet, flush it damn it!" Have you ever experience that first humid not quite hot so you don't turn on the air conditioner day? You walk into your house after a long day of running & smell....outhouse? Yeahhhhhh..... MY house...everyday!

So every spring I try to be like Mom & spring clean.

I take one look at the fan & my allergies start up. Yum, dust. How do I fix it? I flip the switch so it spins the opposite direction & watch the greasy dust balls plummet into my kids 5 hour old cereal bowls still filled w/ mushy cereal bits. Hey, that's what a garbage disposal is for! I don't wipe them down. I just make sure the fans are always on. Can't tell how dirty they are if they are spinning!

Behold the banister. That is just the first layer of dirt I wiped off. I scrapped the rest with a wool pad & a knife. I thought the wood was stained dark black/brown. Yeahhhh no.

I have some glare, but if you look past it you can see the difference of clean/dirty. Can you see it? What...in a child's chemical makeup compels them to draggggg their dirty, greasy hands along the walls? Seriously, can we not invent a drug that makes them stop that habit? I now know why our Victorian ancestors put up chair rails! I would like to market my new invention. Chair Rails encrusted w/ shards of glass. That should do the trick!

Isn't it cute? A fuzzy, wuzzy, dust worm. This little bast#$% appeared 2 days after I dust moped. TWO DAYS! Kill me now please.

Problem....dust covered....no...greasy dust covered fake flowers gracing my kitchen shelf.

Solution....greasy dust covered fake flowers gracing my garbage can.

Please mother forgive me!