Our house is lived-in. A sink void of dishes is a rare sight. If we had a mantelpiece, it would never pass Mary Poppin's inspection (though she just might forgive us since it's almost impossible to keep away dust in West Texas.) And most of us have a terrible propensity for leaving things lying all around the house. I unfailingly accumulate a stack of things at "my end" of the dining room table, and this past summer it has often included the following:
- Bible and journal
- spiritually/intellectually challenging book
- books "to read" (a largish stack, too easily pulled from the shelves which line an entire wall of the dining room, and too rarely actually read)
- quote book (to record pithy sayings from 2 and 3, if I ever find the pages again)
- tea pot and tea cup, and/or coffee mug
- pages from story I'm writing
- scribbled notes, brainstorm notebook, sketchbook, and topographical map for above (ok, not the map)
- Spanish textbooks, vocabulary cards, and grammar notes
- laptop computer
Oh, speaking of my loverly mom, she has her own blog where you can see some of the things she does. I love living in an artistic house! I know I'm not always as appreciative of all the neat things she does, since I see it all the time, but when people come over and ooh and ahh, I'm chastened and reminded again what a treasure my mom is.
Back to the house: in some senses it is better than it used to be. No more baby toys scattered around in every corner of every room. No more high chair trays to clean. No more diaper-loaded trash bags to carry out. How sad, eh? And I'm not being sarcastic...weel, maybe a tad, but I do love babies, and their messes are small troubles compared to their worth. Our messes now just have a different content to them. They are more comfortable, and therein lies their danger!
But today we cleaned house. Don't you love a clean bathroom, just begging for a dancing candle flame to transform it into a cozy spa? I remember again the joy of vacuuming; it makes me feel strong to sweep around rooms with my hefty weapon and chase away to nothing bits of thread and dust. They could not escape me today! As an ancient swordmaiden I was, but my sword was a instrument of cleaning. I am no man!
And now the day is done, the floors clean, piano dusted, dishes loaded, feet tired with a good ache, and I am about to try to tidy my room a bit before bed. It is the receptacle and gravitating grounds of my stacks and piles of odds and ends. Come to think of it, some evens and beginnings are there, also. But at least the floor is vacuumed already.
I'm sleepy. Messes are fun, but clean is also nice. And tomorrow I'll begin making more messes to have the fun of doing it all again.
Oh, before I go, here's the dirt and I conversing:
Dirt: "Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!"
Me: "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Rael I am, Dale's daughter. You stand between me and my floor, sink, and clean house. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you!
(note: I did not write Lord of the Rings, which is Tolkien's, and which I have here shamelessly quoted and slightly altered. Honor is due the writer of the classic and highly applicable words from which parodies abound in our house!)