So about halfway through cleaning my bathroom and feeling awfully grumpy about it, I said to myself, “That’s it! I’m doing a post about cleaning!” Immediately my chore took on a new interest, as I thought of things I could write later.
For example, I thought, the Lime Away does not seem to be actually taking away the lime. Then I realized it was not Lime Away but something called The Works, and I am not clear on which is lime and which is grime. (Isn’t that a crime?) (I just love to rhyme) (OK! I’ll stop! Sheesh!)
Then I got into a wrestling match with the disinfecting wipes. They are supposed to pop so handily out of the dispenser. I daresay the name brand does, but I am not at all sure of that (perhaps a head to head comparison for a future blog post?). Ah, it was the end of the bunch. No wonder.
My bathroom wasn’t really that bad, although I confess I do not give it a weekly cleaning as I used to do. Back in the last century, when Steven and I both had nine to five (or thereabouts) jobs, we used to clean the apartment every Saturday. We’d put on our album of Pippin (yes, album; I did say it was the last century, didn’t I?) and be done before the grand finale.
I haven’t thought about that in years. Today as I scrubbed and huffed (um, that’s huffed as in, “Humph! I have to clean the bathroom!” not huffed as in that substance abuse thing I’ve heard certain young people are into) (Or is that old news? Well, so am I old), I wondered if some music would help. Steven was hard at work in the kitchen downstairs, though, so we would have had to blast the music for us both to enjoy it. That may have perturbed the dog.
Cleaning did not take us an onerous amount of time. And writing a blog post about it was the opposite of onerous. Now Steven is in the shower (I hope he doesn’t mess it up), and soon we will embark on this weekend’s Mohawk Valley adventures. Stay tuned!
Mohawk Valley Girl 