Confession

I have to confess that I didn't spend one minute writing this weekend. I spent it cleaning. I deluded myself that I was staying on top of keeping the house clean, or rather clean-ish. I was wrong, so wrong. Our son and daughter-in-law were coming yesterday for a visit and would be spending a night or two at our place. I don't want them to think we're slobs, so I enlisted Durwood in the cleaning army (of 2) and started whip cracking.

Friday was consumed with tidying, putting things from their dropped-where-I-was-standing spots to their real homes, and getting the living room in order, dusting & vacuuming.

Saturday I got it into my head to organize my writing area, which took the morning, then I removed the huge brown vinyl recliner from the living room and shoved it into the corner of my bedroom, replacing it with the rocker I store the clothes I'm too lazy to hang up on. After lunch I cleaned the bathroom, a battle of mildew eradication that ended with a couple of previously white towels getting turned pink by being washed in hot water with a red one. Oops. Oh well, Durwood said to say they're now Breast Cancer Awareness towels. Quick thinker, that Durwood. I also cleaned the top of the fridge on Saturday. Ugh, that was a festival of disgusting greasy dirt that dribbled down the sides and front so I had to clean the whole thing from top to bottom. (Note to self: do that more often or get someone else to do it.)

I was sure there'd be time to write on Sunday but I helped Durwood clean his room and find places to put the recipes and other papers he collects on one of the extra dining chairs. We stripped and remade his bed and hung some blankets out to air in the breeze. I vacuumed everything, all the baseboards, and even used the wand tool to get in all the crevices around door jambs and the patio doors. I can say with confidence that I vacuumed every single spot in my house, which is now officially clean.

It looks so nice. Too bad it'll never stay that way. But, anyway, that's why I didn't write last weekend. I've brought the three art prompt pictures to work so I can catch up. Here's Friday's:

July 31--Qing Dynasty, Bowl decorated with cherry blossoms on a marbled background. Celie sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by boxes and drifts of brown paper. She had nearly finished packing up everything they were keeping from Gran's dining room. She could hear her sisters: Nora in the kitchen, laughing with her husband Ted as they emptied nearly a century of life out of the cupboards, and Elaine upstairs calling out to her teenage daughter Lynn as they sorted and boxed up the contents of the four big bedrooms. Celie was in charge of the living room, which she had finished, the library, which she hadn't started, and the dining room where she sat. She was pulling out the dishes crammed into the bottom of the sideboard, a mish-mash of serving pieces and decorative items when out came the blue and white bowl. She first saw it cupped in Gran's hands like a baby bird catching the tears that dripped from Gran's long dark eyelashes. When Celie asked why her beloved Gran was crying, Gran dashed away her tears and held Celie's chin in her soft papery hand. "Oh, I'm just an old woman crying over long-lost love." Celie put the bowl aside. Maybe somewhere in this huge house there was an explanation.

Hmm, this has definite possibilities. I'll be back later with more writing. Gotta catch up! At least I didn't slough off doing my Wii Fit. I'm loving it.
--Barbara