A tad tired of cleaning...

I have done more laundry in the past two days than I have in the past two months.  Okay, perhaps not quite as much, but I am on my twelfth load.  This is it, though.  I think Amos' butter encounter is over.  Washing down pillows is much work.  SIGH.

Were the pumpkin cookies worth it?  They are mighty tasty.  However, I really am weary of washing bedding that was just washed a bit ago.  In fact, two of those 12 loads were repeats from yesterday's washing.

Bettina worked again today, so I finished cleaning four of the wire mesh stacking shelving pieces that I have from my old closets.  After 12 or so years (I think they are even older), many were sticky and sort of gross.  So, I left four soaking in hot, soapy water last night and finished cleaning them today.  Now, I have a better system in my closet for the clothes I have been wearing of late.  I would rather, though, have the bars changed directions.

Since I was in the closets, I went through my clothing and pulled out a few things.  Most of what I have is too large because of the weight loss of last year.  However, if I got rid of all the clothing that didn't fit, I would only have sweats (which are okay large) left. Is is better to go around looking like a bum or like a little girl playing dress-up?

While not cleaning-related, Bettina's productivity inspired me to file my online rebate for Amos' heart worm medication, print it out, and get it all ready to mail on the morrow.  I also made a shopping list since I am out of laundry detergent (usually, a bottle lasts months and months and months, not just a single month).  I filed a bit of paperwork.  And I went through my two antique boxes and two antique writing desks and got rid of a few more things.

Doing so did make me think about stuff.  In all my reducing, there are still things that I have kept because they sort of mean something to me, but would be mere junk to another person.  For example, I have one of my business cards from each of my jobs.  And I have my mother's written directions for how to use the VCR because she never could figure that out.  I have my name badge from the first job I ever worked.  And I have a tiny plastic dinosaur that a boy I helped years ago gave me as a thank you.  In the boxes are things like a hacky sac from when I was a camp counselor, a container of silly putty from when I was a child, and all my credit cards that I never use.  Useful stuff the latter, but nothing before that.  Tucked away in a box here or a drawer there are things that Bettina would simply throw out were she dealing with my estate.  Things that are bits and pieces of my life, but really are just tokens.

I do not remember the boy. I do not remember the face.  I do not remember the moment.  But I know it was a great one for him and for me.  So I hold onto the dinosaur, not really sure why.  A bit of plastic taking up space.

I also disconnected the rotten sponge from the mop in the basement and put it by the front door, hoping to find a replacement head for it at the store.  I thought that might be the best way to clean the attic floor.  You see, Amos snuck up there whilst I was sitting on the blackened attic steps cleaning them and he came back down all gray again.  The wretch!

I vow, though, here and now, to scrub just a small section of attic floor at a time.  None of this killing myself to clean or organize or improve or renovate or anything else.  Amos, did you hear me?  Don't let your momma be stupid again, okay?

We both had a night of dreams last night.  We are both tired from being up dealing with rejected butter. [Did you know that puppies can belch rather loudly?]  We are both thankful we have the other for company.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!