I have to go out later to pick up a few things I ordered at the hardware store then I’m on to Rings for some groceries. I’m thinking stuff for a salad, some fruit and a Payday. From there I’ll hit the road for a bit of a ride.

I can see the dust in all its forms when I walk from room to room. The solutions are easy: ignore the dust or vacuum. I like ignore, but I vacuum. Items on my chore list appear the first day and are repeated the next day if undone. My list a few days back was small but intense. I had to clean the bins under the butcher block. They were heavy and were harboring long ago expiration dates. I cleaned only two. My garbage bag had reached its weight limit.

I bought a wire cart. When I told my sister, she asked if it’s like the one Grandma Ryan used. Yes, it is. I have a cart almost exactly like my grandmother’s cart. The only difference is the wheels of my cart spin so it can be moved up stairs. Still, I’ve decided to keep an eye on myself to make sure I don’t go shopping for flowered dresses, cotton slips or clunky heeled black shoes.

Sitting here gives me time for daydreaming, for making lists filled with things I want to do and places I want to go. The places are easy. My list barely changes from year to year. First, of course, is Ghana. It doesn’t matter how many times I go back, I still need to go back one more time. Nepal, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam are on my oldest list. I almost made it to Georgia in 1972, but they cancelled that end of my trip. It’s on the list. I once said I wanted to branch out from Europe, but now I want back. I want to visit Eastern Europe. I have been to Russia and Hungary, but I’d like to visit Croatia, Romania and a few more in that area. Romania is Dracula. I still haven’t mentioned the Pacific. I’ll keep you in suspense.

My cleaning lists start with the usual items: water the plants, clean the bathrooms, dust or, if it is really bad, vacuum. The laundry is now and then. What I’ve find myself doing is strange chores, foreign chores like wet mopping the floors downstairs, polishing the silver, washing the crystal, cleaning the hanging pots and culling the baskets under the table.

That list gave me pause, but then I figured I’m okay as long as I keep thinking those are strange, foreign chores.

This entry was posted on May 3, 2020 at 1:25 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.