of house-guests and clean floors

Tags

childhood home, clean floors, dusting, home, mop

Today a friend of mine is coming to stay for a week, she is in the process of moving and needs a place to stay in the meantime. But before she can come I really do need to clean.

My floors need a good wipe and I have spotted a few spiderwebs in “hard to reach” corners, so a thorough dusting is needed. The only problem is – I hate cleaning! But I do love a clean home.

So I have decided to finally push my inner procrastinator aside  and spring clean my house into submission, sparkle up those counter-tops and tiles, wipe floors and dust corners, I have even cleaned out the fridge and am in the process of tackling the hob.

To help me swing my mop and steady the broom I will put on some music and shake my duster in tact to some 80s pop. And I know that once I’m done I will not only love my clean surroundings I will be happy to invite my friend into a spring-fresh home.

And who knows,maybe my muse will join in the cleaning fun and I’ll be able to sit down at a tidy desk and type out some good inspiration. After all good ideas do tend to come in unexpected moments and what could be more unexpected than while cleaning a toilet?

my mop

duster dance

Tags

clean, dance, dust, fun, home, humour, mop, music

The sun is streaming in through my windows, catching in the prisms dangling there, making rainbows dance around my home.  Sadly, that is not the only thing the sun brings to light. Dust and dirt that have been hidden through cloudy skies stands out. It’s time again to do the duster dance.

I hate cleaning, it always seems such a futile chore, but I hate the way it tickles my nose, activating my dust allergy even more. The runny redness may bring out the blue in my eyes, but add in loud sneezing and itchy skin and you have a walking disaster area. So, like it or not my day will be spent doing the mop merengue, scrubber samba and toilet tango.

Trying to make the best out of a bad situation I own cleaning utensils that cheer me up. The long fluffy duster that dutifully hangs waiting behind the door is bright red with lovely little images of green pears and flowers, lovely red hearts and cherries with tiny yellow blobs thrown in for good measure. My mop bucket is related to the duster and it shows in the decorations on the front, I even own brightly coloured scrubbing cloths and sponges.

Armed against the dirt I put on music, something I can sing along to and my feet often decided to dance, making me twirl, slide or even skip around the house while catching cob-webs and banishing dirt.

Once I’m done with stripping the beds and putting on a or three load, I’ll be able to have a steaming hot cuppa while I’ll admire the gleaming floors, the sparkling surfaces and the lingering smell of cleanliness. Sadly I know that once I walk across those floors it will be the first steps towards the nest day of the duster dance.