Growing Versions

Like many women, I have vacillating feelings about cleaning. On the one hand, I resent that through both forces beyond my control and more personal ones, I have ended up with the bulk of housework in our house. On the other, I can't deny that I love the feeling of waking up in a freshly cleaned house. It sets things for the week, or the day, or a morning (in our case) off on the right foot. Recently, I have re-committed to cleaning house.  I have discovered that despite the patriarchy extracting labour for free, our family does benefit from the occasional freebie. Last weekend, I woke up to stacks of dirty dishes, discarded snacks and wobbling piles of clothes and library books all over every surface.  I rolled up my sleeves, turned on the radio and worked steadily revealing surfaces again for the next few hours. It wasn't spotless but there was room to breathe again, and as it turns out, play. The next day it rained.  The kids started filling up every surface ...

Spring cleaning is about taking off the wool blankets, airing them out and packing them away.  Spring cleaning is about remembering and behaving as if, we need less. Less clothes, fewer shoes, fewer drawings, fewer broken toys, and crumbs, and magazines, and furniture, and food, and Christmas trees (long story), less Netflix. We need less. Now, let's prove it.

Green tinged sunshine floods the kitchen.  It blinds me for a minute  to the rotting compost and unfolded laundry (dirty and clean) just a short pace away. My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you? Erma Bombeck