I got the beds stripped and remade, the sheets washed, I put out fresh towels but didn't get the old ones washed yet. I'm taking this slowly. I don't want to shock the house by having it too clean and tidy all at once. The new carpets don't twitch and complain when I vacuum them, they think it's their due to be massaged and fluffed. The old carpets were used to being walked on and only vacuumed when company was imminent. We're not that social, so they got left alone quite a bit to molder and lie about. I'm working to change all that. I've evicted Old Cesspool from behind the toilet, I keep the toothpaste spots on the mirror down to a minimum, and the kitchen floor taps me on the shoulder if I don't swab it often enough to please it. But I'm not going to tackle the dust on the surfaces, not without a wingman. I've always figured that dust was Mother Nature's way of preserving wood furniture and some of the stuff around here is pretty old and set in its ways. I'm not going into battle armed only with a Swiffer duster, even if it's got a fancy white handle, not this chicken.
(Well, that's a lovely flight of fancy up there, isn't it? I wonder if I didn't wash my hair a bit too enthusiastically this morning.)
One of the segments on CBS Sunday Morning yesterday was about the winter keeper in Yellowstone and Durwood and I were transfixed because during the piece he was working to get the snow off the roofs of buildings in the part of the park where we stayed on our first visit. Isn't it crazy how thrilled you get when you've been to a place you see on TV? Or are we the only goofballs in the room?
March 2--H. Mark Weidman, DS-5-K Teamwork. The smell of sawdust and curing concrete was strong when Therese got out of her car at the job site. Hammers sounded like out of sync woodpeckers as walls were framed so the premade roof joists could be lifted into place by the crane she had ordered for the afternoon. She pulled her new hardhat out of the backseat and tucked the rolled up plans under her arm. She knew her way around a set of blueprints and this wasn't her first construction job but when the sound of the hammers petered out, she knew it would be a challenge to prove it to this skeptical crowd of carpenters.
And now I'm off to stuff toe warmers into my boots and cross town to feed the chickens and then go to work. Arivederci!