Posted tagged ‘polishing’

“One who has hope lives differently.”

March 13, 2016

Today is another pretty day, warmer than it has been. I have feeders to fill so I’ll go out for a bit later.

I think I have a virus. It’s manifested by cleaning places not usually cleaned. Yesterday I took everything off my desk, which included snow globes and small wind-up toys from collecting phases. I could have written a short story in the dust. I cleaned the desk and washed all the globes and toys. I threw away papers from piles on the desk top. I organized everything. Next I lemon oiled the antique child’s desk in the bathroom. It holds all the guest towels. The den was next and I threw aways papers from a pile on the table. I had no idea why I saved what I did. There were phone numbers without names, old receipts and cards from different holidays. I threw away so much it can no longer be called a pile.

Today I am going to clean the cabinet under the bathroom sink. It serves a variety of purposes including being a liquor cabinet. I haven’t seen the back of that cabinet in years.

My sister diagnosed my virus as boredom. I think she is probably right. I think boredom is the whole reason for spring cleaning. I’ve been shut up in the house because of freezing days and snow. I have gotten tired of TV and have spent too many days just sitting around and reading. I need to be doing.

I saw a purple crocus this morning, and there are now three yellow ones. The dafs are close to blooming. The garden’s winter slumber is over. Every day I see something new. With morning papers in hand I walk around all the beds to make sure I haven’t missed anything. The purple crocus is hope springing to mind.

“The earth is a spaceship. While you are here, enjoy the ride.”

February 15, 2016

We did it again. We broke another record. Sunday morning the temperature plummeted to minus 9, with a windchill of minus 36, shattering the old record by 6 degrees. Luckily, though, we’re having a heat wave starting today. I wish I could sing the rest of the song, but the temperature will be nowhere near a tropical heat wave. Today’s temperature is expected to rise to near-freezing (you have to laugh when the temperature rises to near-freezing) with the possibility of snow, and tomorrow’s temperature may climb into the 50s, accompanied by wind and rain. We’re getting closer to beach weather.

Being housebound for the last few days has put me over the edge. Yesterday I actually cleaned and polished the shelves in the den and everything on them, and believe me, those shelves are filled. I watered all the plants and cleaned the TV screen so it no longer resembles a dust bowl. Today I intend to dust the desk and clean all the wind-up toys on the top of it. This whole urge to clean is a bit frightening. I’m thinking Stepford Wives, the original not the remake.

Spring is definitely coming. Today’s paper had baseball news on the front page of the sports section. I ravenously digested every word of every article. My imagination went wild. I was at Fenway Park on a warm spring night. I could hear the whack of the bat and the roar of the crowd. I could smell the grass and could taste the hot dog topped with mustard and relish. I watched Big Popi hit one out by the Citgo sign. I clapped and cheered.

I’ve decided Gracie and I are going to take a ride, destination still unknown. That’s the best sort of a ride: when you don’t know where you’re going. You just pick a street or a road at random and follow where it goes. I love surprises.



“I can be quite sarcastic when I’m in the mood.”

January 10, 2015

Today is sunny, but I don’t care. It does me no good. The day is still cold, and outside is uninviting. My mood now reflects the cold. I yelled at Gracie this morning because she was driving me crazy sitting beside me and staring. That’s not new. She does that most days when she wants something, and I usually ask her what she wants, and when her ears perk, I accede to her wishes but I didn’t today. The cold has undermined my good humor. All I ask is one warm winter’s day.

The house is cozy but staying inside day after day has made me far too productive. I can’t walk into a room without doing something. I’ve vacuumed, changed my bed, put things away, done laundry and swept the kitchen. I even watered the plants and did some polishing. I’m thinking possession, an evil spirit bent on making me clean the house, a cruel and hideous spirit. While I work, while I’m in a frenzy, the dog and cat ignore me. The dog sleeps on the couch and Fern sleeps curled in a ball. The dog snores. Fern sort of whistles, a cat’s version of a snore. I envy the both of them.

I do have a reprieve. My friends have invited me to watch the Pats play the Ravens. I can put my dust rag away for just a while and silence the madness.

A few of my Christmas presents are decorative, and I’ve been walking around trying to find just the right spots. A couple are hanging, but a couple more still wait. The hall upstairs has a new rug. The table in the living room is where the new pottery from Ghana, a gift from my sister, has found a home. The woven lamb, from my other sister, is still waiting. I have tried several spots but none were right. There I was walking from room to room holding up the weaving and then shaking my head and moving on. There is a cascade effect here. I find a spot and what was there needs to be moved so I look for another spot and on and on. I have become the Diogenes of interior decorating.

“Go, and redeem some other promising young creature, but leave me to keep Christmas in my own way.”

November 14, 2014

Last night the rain started and didn’t stop until late this morning, but it was a short dry spell. The rain started again about 20 minutes ago. It is colder than it has been, 41˚, and tonight will be in the 30’s. Gracie and I just got back from the dump. Going in the rain is the best time for the dump as few people venture. Trash can wait. There were just three other cars. Luckily the rain had stopped when we left the house. I dumped my recycles and trash and left. As soon as I got through the gate, the rain started again in earnest, regular wiper speed a necessity. The day is raw cold.

Yesterday I was Hazel, the maid and filled the bird feeders, cleaned the fridge, swept the floor, washed the dog bowls and placemat, did two loads of laundry and even brought both loads upstairs. I dusted the den using the sleeve of my sweatshirt, always a handy tool for dusting, and polished a couple of tables. I was not meant for menial labor.

I am a woman of very few words today. I haven’t seen anybody or done anything interesting. I did watch A Christmas Carol last night, my favorite with Alastair Sim. It was retro Thursday on the Hallmark Channel. I do love this movie and his welfare, his reclamation if you will.

I read an article about Scrooge called Diagnosing Scrooge Syndrome. According to the author Scrooge suffered from Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder, not yet official in the DSM-V, only proposed. “PTED will, if included, probably apply to a person experiencing, witnessing or being directly confronted with a highly traumatic event or events leading to chronic (longer than three months minimally, but more realistically, at least one year) feelings of embitterment.” The article is a long one so I won’t quote all of it here, but dear old Ebenezer, according to the author, saves himself through his interactions with the ghosts. That part I agree with, but humbug I say about the rest of the article. Some things needn’t be analyzed.

I’m now visualizing Rudolph on the couch, his red nose bright, his eyes filled with tears as he relates the story of being ridiculed and harassed. I won’t even mention Santa.

“Life isn’t all beer and skittles, but beer and skittles, or something better of the same sort, must form a good part of every Englishman’s education.”

March 15, 2012

This morning I stood outside admiring my flowers. Several crocus (I know it has a first declension Latin masculine ending so it is really croci) are blooming. Most are purple and yellow. Any day now my daffodils will open and so will a few flowers outside the fence. I always want a party when the first flowers bloom. It seems a celebratory time needing funny hats, horn blowing and colorful mismatched clothing.

The sun is bright, but it is only 43°. After the Cape finally reached 60°, my expectations have risen. The weatherman says a warm spell is on the way, and Boston will be in the high 70’s so we’ll be in the 60’s again. I’ve got to remember my sunscreen.

I cleaned another cabinet and the bookcase in the kitchen. The bookcase is filled with special cookbooks I collect, those with recipes inspired by novels, and neat stuff like Davy Crockett bowls and a glass, a Hopalong Cassidy milk bottle, an old A&W mug and lots of other stuff including tacky souvenirs from places I’ve never been. I took everything knickknackty off the bookcase and washed or polished everything. Now I wear sunglasses to protect me from the glare in the kitchen. I have a couple of other cabinets I still need to tackle but not today. It’s my day off the mundane.

Tonight is trivia night, and the whole team will be there. It’s dinner out, a few drinks and several  futile attempts to rack my brain for answers I should know but have totally forgotten. It is sometimes a humbling night.

Sorry was our favorite family game but second to that was Go to the Head of the Class. I have my family’s original Go to the Class Game from around 1955 I think. My mother gave it to me for my school-themed bathroom. One of these nights I’m going to pull it out so my friends and I can play. The questions are age-related so adults can play. My parents used to play with us. They got to be Mommy and Daddy, two of the cardboard pieces. I think my brother was Cowboy Joe and I was Sis. The originators (Milton Bradley) weren’t too  imaginative with the names. The board is filled with desks and you keep moving to the top row, the head of the class. It was one of our favorite games.

I remember endless games of Slapjack and War. The problem with Slapjack was the first person to slap the Jack got slapped by everyone else trying to snag the card, and the backs of  our hands stayed red most of the game. We’d actually play War until its conclusion. I can’t imagine that.

Well, I’m done. I have some prep for tonight’s trivia. I have to check out a map of the world. I’m okay with most parts, but I’m really bad with which countries abut each other in Asia and parts of the Middle East.  I want to be ready for all the geography questions tonight.

“Never take a job where winter winds can blow up your pants.”

January 16, 2012

Today is a balmy 27°. Last night went into single digits, but I’m not complaining. This has been too warm a winter to warrant any complaints. Not only that but it’s already mid-January, and we haven’t had any snow. I guess my sled will stay in the cellar for a while longer.

I crave color. The world is just so drab after Christmas. Dead leaves hang on the branches, and the tall brown trunks of pine trees stand silhouetted against a muted blue sky. Here and there people still have Christmas lights lit every night, and I appreciate their gestures. I buy cut flowers for the house around this time of year. Their colors remind me that there will be a spring. I just have to be more patient.

My house is a dust bowl. I think I saw Tom Joad upstairs the other day so I’ve made the committment to dust and polish this room today. It is where I spend the most time so it will get the most attention. I hate to clean. It seems like such a waste of time when I could be reading or doing absolutely nothing. Also, the plants need to be watered. It sounds like a work day to me.

Yesterday afternoon I just couldn’t get warm. I was chilled to the bone. I turned up the heat, but that didn’t help. I added a few layers, a long sleeve shirt under my sweatshirt and a pair of socks over my cozies, but they didn’t help either. A cup of coffee tasted great, but only my hands around the cup got warm for only a short while. I tried to take a nap under the down comforter but still felt chilled so I couldn’t fall asleep. My feet were the worst. They were freezing so put on wool socks. Finally my feet got warm and the warmth spread. I was comfortable all evening and thankful for my wool socks even if they do have a few holes.

Last week was really busy. This week is an empty dance card. I won’t see another person until Thursday for our weekly trivia night. Summer is filled with people and voices and sounds. The winter is silent.

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