Scrubba-Dubba!!

You'd think that, with my summers off, I'd use the time to do a little upkeep on the manse. You know, scrape off a layer or two? See what colors my carpets and counters really are? Yeah, you'd think that.

But, I don't.

In my defense, I have all good intentions. I spend the last few weeks before the close of school carefully inspecting the squalor and determining which tasks must be undertaken during the summer holiday. I go through those days with my head held high, secure in the knowledge that I am a responsible homeowner and one who does not fritter away the vacation days watching cartoons and playing with wool.

And, when the vacation begins, I proceed to watch cartoons and play with wool. Suddenly, the Labor Day weekend is upon me and any chance I might have had to create order from chaos is lost. It doesn't really bother me, though. After living in it for a couple of months, I sort of stop seeing the mess. That is, until I come home after that first day of school and see the place with a fresh eye.

This is always rather startling, frankly. Once I've gotten past my need to believe that vandals broke in during my absence (for they had clearly been monitoring the place throughout the summer just waiting for their chance to slip in and scatter my dirty laundry all over the bedroom and sprinkle dust on every available surface) I begin to regret my not having done a better job taking care of the deep cleaning when I had the time.

Hence, the Columbus Day holiday is always one where I feel the urge to scrub something. To say that I am a "casual" housekeeper would be a gross understatement. I'm something of a slob, really. But on this, the first long weekend of the school year, I am the Captain of The Grime Patrol. This year, I armed myself with such wholesome, natural cleansing products as vinegar, lemon juice, baking soda and borax in order that I might tackle the various jobs around here with less of the toxic fumes. Allegedly, I can get things just as shiny with these sorts of things. I don't know if that is necessarily true, but I can say that it was a heck of a lot cheaper. And I don't miss Hysterical Mind's constant squawking about the dangers of inadvertently mixing certain chemicals that, once combined, will kill us within mere minutes or her overriding fear that a curious cat will suddenly be overwhelmed with a desire to drink bleach.

I have spent the weekend cleaning in fits and starts, scrubbing away at helpless appliances with great vigor and aggression. The toilet has been cleaned as never before. At one point, I do believe I heard it weeping, although whether this was from relief or fear of this strange new condition, I know not. I am now almost blinded by its glare when I enter the bathroom.

The Big, Fluffy Kitty has also been the victim of this frenzied spate of housekeeping. Over the summer months, distracted as I was by her weight gain, I fear I got a bit behind in the maintenance of her coat. And when I say, "coat" I mean "coats." She has at least two of them and the undercoats tend to get a bit matted even when I am keeping up with things. When I don't...well, let's just say that I have a very lumpy kitty. I've staged a number of surprise brush attacks over the last few days in an effort to tame the mane. To make matters worse, those mats located in points south on the kitty map come with what we will call a "chewy, chocolaty center." The brushing of these delightful surprises is not only yucky for the groomer, but is an unwelcome intrusion for the groomee. And I have the scars to prove it. The BFK has pretty much had it with me at this point. Then, to add insult to injury, I broke out the steam cleaner while she was resting so that I could sterilize the carpet area where we'd been poo brushing. The hissing of the pressurized water was more that she could take and I suspect that it scared the poor thing enough that she added more of the offending matter to the mix.

But, I am a Sheep on a mission this weekend and I will not be thwarted. Except when I get thwarted. Then I respond to the Thwart accordingly. Thwarts come in a variety of forms, but mostly boredom with the whole activity and a desire to watch cartoons.

As a result, I have also managed to get in quite a bit of knitting time today. And, (now please make sure you are sitting down) spinning! I know...crazy, right? But, the urge to whirl the wool came upon me hard today. Spinning is also a Thwart. But it is not a bad one. It is really sort of helpful since spinning the wool means that it will be yarn and that takes up less space than fiber. This is really more like cleaning. So, instead of being a "Thwart," it is really more of a "thwart." A "thwartling" if you will...

And the festivities will continue tomorrow! As we celebrate the kinda/sorta "discovery" of this great land and Man's inability to ask for directions no matter how lost he may be, I will be enjoying a three day weekend. Monday is a no-school day for this Sheep so Buff 'n Polish '07 will continue for another day.

But let's not tell the Big, Fluffy Kitty that. I honestly don't think that she will be pleased with this piece of information.

SA