Where I write

Where I write

May 1, 2013

Life is too Short to Have a Clean House

I know there are some women who really like to clean house. These are the same women who enjoy bleach and Brillo pads and buying the latest vacuum cleaner. It would have to be some amazing happy drugs to make me enjoy scrubbing a floor.

Sure... I want to have a clean house, but without the work. Duh.  Even if you have maid service, lucky you, stuff still gets dusty and dirty in between visits. There are always dishes that somehow appear in the sink. Suddenly a fork, then a spoon, and before you know it a stack of plates. The minute you finish one load of laundry there is another and another and another. Unlike this smiling gal above this is my attitude toward cleaning.
I'd rather be revising my novel or writing my blog or shopping for a purse, or hiking, or anything then be holding a scrub pad and wearing yellow rubber gloves.
I have stopped wearing my glasses in the house. This keeps me from seeing dust on my baseboards. In fact, I'm glad all my friends are aging. See that line of dirt on my baseboard....ugh. I take off my glasses...and gone!Anyway, soon my middle-aged friends will not be able to see the dust on the refrigerator or the spots on my stove. I once visited the home of an elderly woman, Frances, and her toaster area was littered, thick, with crumbs,looked like a brown ant hill. Frances didn't see the mess, and what she didn't see didn't hurt her. I bet all her old lady friends couldn't see the crumbs, either. Husbands begin to go blind, too. It's a win-win situation.
 
This is my dirty office window. In my defense my office is on the second floor, and I live in Arizona. You know the place with big dust clouds followed by a spattering of rain. A mecca for car washes. I climbed on a ladder once to clean the window and it was dirty a day later. I haven't bothered to risk my neck again. Still, I feel guilty about this window. Not guilty enough to actually clean it, mind you, but still I feel, well, embarrassed.
 
My shame about the dirty window ended yesterday when I was watching a video of a middle-aged woman who is dying of cancer. She has a honest and heart felt blog about her journey with breast cancer. She has probably just a few months to live.... if she is lucky.  Her words about life were touching and profound, but I couldn't help notice that while her house was tidy, the picture window behind where she sat looked sorta like mine. This woman has had a deadline put on her life. Did she care if she had a smudged window? Of course not.  No! She was talking about love, for  her husband and her kids, life, and not one word about spending time with a bottle of Windex in her hand.
 
I read a quote recently from Erma Bombeck, who died awhile ago, but wrote a lot of funny stuff while she was here with us. She said next time she'd never worry about inviting people over to her home even if her carpet was stained and her couch was old. Smart lady, Erma. I'd rather be wearing a string of pearls and writing any day then scrubbing the toilet.


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