(Not my photo, alas)
All winter long I've been ignoring the dusty scruffiness of our house, concentrating, for the most part, on staying warm. But as the temperature rises and the days grow longer, I find myself in the old familiar mode of Spring Cleaning.
As if in a trance, I pull out the Liquid Gold and begin anointing the various bits of wooden furniture in the living room and dining room--chairs, tables, an ancient trunk, a secretary, two chests of drawers, a curio cabinet. . .
It's a slow process. My back begins to hurt after a bit and I have to sit down with a heating pad till the pain subsides. I could push through it but have learned that it will get much worse if I do. So I use my resting time to re-read a Harlan Coben mystery.
Meanwhile, John seems to have been struck by a similar urge. He has varnished surfaces in the mudroom and now he has pulled the kitchen table out to the porch and is refinishing the top.
It's a welcome seasonal affliction--like birds nesting, bulbs sprouting, forsythia blooming.
4 comments:
I’m impressed. And I like that photo that isn’t yours. Alas, it isn’t mine either but I would like it to be.
Alas, if I'm lucky I have one or two snowdrops, no more. And I could never get low enough to snap them at that angle.
Good that you know how to pace yourself. I haven't yet figured out how to live with a positive heating pad experience. Perhaps because my muscles just don't get tested enough. Lovely photo, no matter who took it! I have never seen a snowdrop in person, that I can remember anyway!
I keep reminding myself that our area -- and our yard -- will be filled with bright cheerful daffodils in another month. Cleaning? I vote for a cleaning service. They'll even clean the inside of the fridge.
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