Filtered Thoughts

Because I am on summer break and have the option to sleep later should I so choose, I am finding myself staying up until the wee hours.  As such, I have the opportunity to take advantage of certain television viewing options that are not normally within my working girl menu.

I was sitting, goggle-eyed, before an infomercial the other night and marveling at the amazing powers of the steam blaster being wielded by the salesman.  As part of his sales pitch, he was cleaning all sorts of things with wild abandon.  At one point, he presented the host with the filter from a range hood and asked her if she had ever had the chance to really inspect one.  She chuckled rather self-deprecatingly and admitted that she didn't even know that they came off like that.

I smiled patronizingly.  They were obviously discussing those new-fangled sorts of stoves.  With all the recent advances in cooking technology, maintenance is certainly much more than it used to was.  I felt fortunate to have one of the older models here at the manse.  These workhorses don't require the removal of the filter.  They are kept tidy through the power of magic and positive thinking.  

I went to bed feeling like progress was overrated.

I awoke wondering if I might be overly optimistic.  I still felt pretty confident in my range hood's ability to filter freely without my intervention...but I thought it couldn't hurt to check.  I craned my neck a bit and, sure enough, the filter seems to be removable.  Further, it is clearly imprinted with a strong admonition regarding the need to replace them regularly for optimal performance.

Who knew?

Well, I most certainly wasn't going to replace it!   Not with the knowledge passed on to me from the experts on the infomercial at my disposal!  I may not have their super-duper, fancy-schmancy steamer.  But I do have one I got on sale at the drug store that time.  I determined that I would go forth and clean this filter with the disinfecting power of the steam as God and the infomercial people intended.

I scared the heck out of the cats.  But the filter was duly steamed to within an inch of its life.

I couldn't help but think that a dunk in some soapy water then a good rinse might have been equally effective.  But I have learned that, if you can count on nothing else in this crazy world, you can count on this:  Infomercials do not lie.  They are veritable paragons of virtue in a society gone mad with hypocrisy.  

I then began to wonder if there might be other filters lurking about the place and of which I had no prior awareness.  I am not the best of housekeepers.  Or anything even like a housekeeper, if the truth be told.  It isn't outside the realm of possibility that I might have missed one or two of the things around here designed to keep me from a nasty, moldy kind of death.  I began to investigate.

And, would you believe it?  This place is lousy with filters!  They are on some of the fans.  There's one in the hydroponic gardening thingy.  I found another in the hood of the litter box and, great golly Miss Molly, there were two of the things lurking within the vacuum cleaner!  They are everywhere, for crying out loud!  

And each of them seems to be labeled with clear directions around their care, cleaning and eventual need for replacement.  This is of some concern given that I can't recall ever cleaning a filter around here except for the one on the propane heater and I only do that because I have a paralyzing fear of explosions.  

It's been a long day.  The steamer is begging for a break and the air is saturated after my frantic efforts at dealing with the issue of all these neglected filters.  I may have actually created my own weather system here.

I further suspect that there are many more filters around here that I haven't even thought of.  It's not going to be the summer vacation I'd planned.  I will be spending my days crawling around and banging on various surfaces looking for filters.  If the ones I found today are any indication, then I am going to be in for some serious scrubbing time.

By now, I trust that you are all suitably impressed with my ability to avoid discussing The Thing That Will Never Grow Up To Be A Sweater And Yet Which Still Doesn't Seem To Be Going All That Badly So Now I'm Even More Scared Of It.  Other than my fears around yarn yardage, I just can't seem to find the flaw.  There must certainly be one...but it has yet to materialize.  

Every step up the mountain increases my confidence that I shall, one day, defeat the Dreaded Blog Sweater Curse.  It also ensures that, when I fall, it will be from an even greater and more pain-inducing height.  

Better to focus on the filter situation.  I hear tell that there might be one in the space heater and another lurking in the bathroom vent.  That should keep me occupied for a while.

SA