The Sun Singer's Travels

Malcolm R. Campbell's World

I’ve stopped counting the dust bunnies

With the arrival of out-of-town company imminent, one finds out just how messed up the house has gotten since the last time everything was dusted, vacuumed, polished, scrubbed and mopped.

mopbucketWhen we were first married, my wife and I cleaned the house every Saturday because we were brought up right. On the plus side of this effort, we felt virtuous. We also felt safe, knowing that if the phone rang and somebody announced they were dropping by in a few minutes, we didn’t have to worry about the house looking like we lost our brooms and sponges during World War II.

As time goes by, one forgets bits and pieces of being brought up right. House cleaning turns into an every other Saturday kind of thing. If there are other things to do, maybe the guest bathroom gets skipped one week and the mirrors and windows aren’t Windexed the following week.

Those of you who have pets know all the ways they contribute to the general deteriorating of the homestead and how–no matter how many times they are asked–the refuse to clean up after themselves. We find so much cat hair strewn around the house from our three kitties, that we wonder why they aren’t bald. And we also wonder how pieces of cat litter can get tracked to the far ends of the house.

Today, the cats have been freaked out and in the way. This always happens when brooms and mops come out, when the base boards get scrubbed, when they can see me on the porch cleaning the outsides of the windows in the front door. This means they’re underfoot and when their tales get stepped on, all hell breaks loose.

catsblackSo far, nobody’s been injured today. When the wastebasket got knocked over spilling junk onto the bathroom floor I just finished mopping, no cats were harmed because they beamed out of the room at the speed of light. After all the racket, they kept their distance for a while and that suited me just fine.

Most of the house is cleaned up now. Seems like a good time for a glass of Scotch, but seriously, it’s not good to start having one’s first drink of the day at 1:30 p. m. Once you justify that, it’s easy to justify having it at noon and then breakfast. The only good thing about that, is getting too drunk to clean up the house.

But then, the cats will start complaining about me and the joint will be a mess when the company show up.

Maybe it would be easier to hire a maid service or live in a fancy hotel suite.


ewkindlecoverWhen I’m not cleaning the house, I’m writing magical books like “Eulalie and Washerwoman” and “Conjure Woman’s Cat.”


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4 thoughts on “I’ve stopped counting the dust bunnies

  1. I know the feeling. Try as I might to keep from bringing dirt in, it gets there anyway. Maybe if I lived in an igloo…

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